The late-night air in the human realm was cool, brushing softly against Lysandra's skin as she stepped past the rusted gate of her apartment. The metal creaked faintly behind her, but it wasn't the sound that made her stop—it was the pulse. A powerful, magnetic aura, impossible to ignore, cloaked the building like a shadow waiting in silence.
She closed her eyes for a moment, drew in a breath, and let out a sigh filled with weariness.
Caveen.
She had sensed him the moment her foot touched the threshold of the apartment complex. His aura was impossible to forget—heavy, complex, intoxicating. Once, it had made her feel safe. Now, it only wrapped her heart in painful chains.
She turned the key and slowly opened the door.
There he was.
Caveen.
Sitting on her old gray couch like he belonged there.
Casual clothes hugged his tall frame—a simple black sweater and dark jeans—but nothing about him ever looked ordinary. His tousled black hair fell slightly over his piercing eyes, which glimmered red for a split second when they landed on her. He was dangerously handsome, a creature carved from a past she could never outrun.
Their eyes met.
Lysandra's heart did something stupid—it skipped.
She quickly looked away.
"...What again do you want?" she asked, her voice sharp, slicing through the thick tension in the air. She knew better than to let him see how fast her pulse raced, or how much she still felt him, even now.
Caveen stood, his expression unreadable, but his eyes held that cold storm she had once seen only in the aftermath of his rage.
"I smell Elias," he said, his voice low and accusing. "His scent is everywhere. Here. On your couch. Your pillow. Even the damn walls."
Lysandra stiffened. A bitter smile curled on her lips, and she raised her chin.
"What does it have to do with you?" she snapped, finally meeting his eyes. "He's my boyfriend. Of course he's here. Of course his scent is here. Why wouldn't it be?"
The lie tasted sour on her tongue.
But she had no choice. She had to say it. Had to protect herself.
Caveen didn't move at first. He just stared at her, disbelief settling like thunderclouds in his eyes.
"Elias?" he echoed, voice cold. "You expect me to believe that man is your lover?"
Lysandra stiffened. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
He was already in front of her in a blink.
Too fast.
Too close.
She barely had time to react when his hand gripped her wrist and yanked her toward him. "Because I know you. I know your soul, Lysandra. I know every breath you take and every tremble you try to hide."
She struggled. "Let me go, Caveen—!"
But his eyes glowed now, crimson bright.
"I need the truth," he hissed, his voice laced with something wild. "And if you won't say it—then I'll taste it."
"No!" she gasped, panic in her voice.
But he had already pulled her closer, one hand pressing against her shoulder, his fingers trembling—not with anger, but something deeper. Desperation.
"Please," she whispered, eyes wide.
Caveen paused for the briefest moment—caught between rage and restraint.
And then he whispered against her skin, "I'll know everything… this way."
His fangs slid down, and he bit.
Lysandra shuddered, frozen in place.
Not from pain—but from everything else.
Fear.
Heartbreak.
Old feelings she had tried to kill but never could.
Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as her hands gripped his shoulders—uncertain whether to push him away or pull him closer.
The taste of her blood rushed into Caveen like a storm. And in it—the truth unfurled.
She had never slept with Elias.
She had never let another man touch her that way.
She had been lying—to protect herself.
Caveen slowly pulled away, his breathing heavy, chest rising and falling like a man just pulled from drowning.
He licked the bite gently, sealing the mark, then leaned close.
His lips brushed her ear.
"Remember this…" he whispered darkly. "No one will ever touch you besides me."
Lysandra gasped softly, her eyes wide with horror and helplessness.
Not because she didn't feel something.
But because she still did.
And that was the cruelest part of all.
Lysandra's breath hitched as Caveen's burning gaze bore into her. His body radiated power, his aura practically crackling with fury.
"Cut your ties with him," Caveen said, voice low and commanding. No emotion. No hesitation. Just dominance.
Lysandra's eyes widened. "What…?"
"You heard me," he growled. "I don't want you near Elias again."
She took a trembling step back, placing a hand against her bitten neck. "You don't get to decide that anymore, Caveen," she whispered. "Elias is my friend. He's my—my safe place…"
"Safe place?" Caveen snapped, stepping forward again. "You mean the man whose scent I had to inhale the moment I walked in? The one who probably sleeps here while I—while I—" His voice faltered before returning like a whip. "Do it. End it with him."
She straightened. "And if I don't?"
Caveen's eyes darkened, the promise in them enough to chill her blood.
"Then you won't want to know what I'll do next."
Lysandra's heart slammed against her ribs. Her legs felt weak, and the lump in her throat grew heavier with every heartbeat.
"I hate you…" she muttered, her voice cracking. "I hate how you're still doing this to me."
Before she could say more, Caveen's hand cupped the side of her face with unexpected gentleness. "No, you don't," he whispered, and his mouth crashed down on hers.
It wasn't tender.
It wasn't careful.
It was punishment. It was a claim.
Lysandra resisted, pounding her fists against his chest, but the heat between them exploded like wildfire. She was melting—against her will, against her better judgment.
The moment he pulled away, she was breathless, stunned, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and shame.
He looked at her with an unreadable expression, his lips stained slightly red from the earlier bite. "No one else gets you," he murmured. "Only me."
And just like that, he turned on his heel and left.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Lysandra stood frozen, the silence in her apartment louder than any scream. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, shaking violently. Her hands clutched the fabric of her torn shirt, her teeth biting down hard on her trembling lips.
She broke.
Her sobs tore through the quiet like glass shattering.
"I hate him," she choked out. "I hate him… I hate him…"
But no matter how many times she said it, it didn't change the truth.
She still loved him.
Even after all the pain, after the heartbreak, after everything—her heart still beat for Caveen Landon.
And that terrified her more than anything else.