Time stretched strangely in that chamber.
No one moved for a while.
Kael stood near the cage with the same calm patience he carried into everything. The Lightborn zealot remained kneeling inside the bars of radiant gold, breathing a little heavier than before but still defiant.
And I stood between them.
Trying very hard not to feel the hunger.
At first it was manageable.
Just a dryness in my throat. A dull ache behind the ribs that I could ignore if I focused on something else. I had lived with worse discomforts as a human.
But this wasn't ordinary discomfort.
It was awareness.
My body had changed, and it was reminding me.
The longer we stood there, the sharper the sensation became.
I turned away from the cage and walked a few steps toward the wall, folding my arms tightly across my chest.
"I said no," I muttered.
"I heard you," Kael replied calmly.
His voice didn't carry frustration.
If anything, it sounded almost gentle.
That irritated me more than anger would have.
"You could have brought an animal," I said.
"That would delay the problem."
"It would solve this one."
"No," he said quietly. "It would hide it."
I clenched my jaw.
Behind me, the Lightborn shifted inside the cage.
"You don't have to listen to him," the zealot said. His voice was weak but steady. "They always pretend necessity justifies cruelty."
Kael didn't even look at him.
"I am not pretending anything."
The man laughed softly.
"That's the worst part about creatures like you," he said. "You believe your own logic."
Kael turned his head slightly.
"And you believe yours."
The zealot's pale eyes burned.
"I believe the world deserves to be free of you."
"Then you should not have been captured."
Silence followed that.
I pressed my fingers to my temple.
The hunger had begun to sharpen.
Not pain.
Not yet.
But something close.
A steady pressure that kept nudging my attention back toward the cage.
Toward the living pulse inside it.
I hated that.
I hated how easily my senses found him.
The rhythm of his heartbeat.
The warmth beneath his skin.
I could hear it now.
That terrified me.
"You're listening," Kael said quietly.
I didn't turn around.
"I'm ignoring it."
"For the moment."
"You sound very confident."
"I am."
I looked over my shoulder at him.
"You think this ends one way."
"Yes."
"And you're just waiting for me to prove you right."
"No," he said calmly. "I am waiting for your body to remind you what you are."
The hunger twisted deeper.
I took a slow breath.
The scent of blood hung faintly in the air from the zealot's earlier wounds.
It felt stronger now.
Richer.
I closed my eyes.
"This is manipulation."
Kael shook his head slightly.
"No."
"You put him here."
"Yes."
"You knew what would happen."
"Yes."
"That's manipulation."
"That," he said quietly, "is instruction."
My stomach tightened.
The zealot shifted again in the cage.
"Look at him," he said. "He's waiting for you to break."
I forced my eyes open.
Kael's expression hadn't changed.
"You enjoy this," I said.
"No."
"You're very good at pretending."
"I am not pretending."
The hunger pulsed again.
Harder this time.
My hands trembled slightly.
I curled them into fists.
"You said starvation would teach me," I muttered.
"Yes."
"What exactly?"
"That hunger does not negotiate with ideals."
The zealot barked a laugh.
"He wants you to believe that weakness is truth."
Kael finally looked at him.
"No," he said quietly. "I want her to understand that denial is not strength."
I stepped forward suddenly.
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here."
Neither of them flinched.
That only made my temper flare hotter.
"Your order hunts vampires," Kael said to the zealot calmly.
"Yes."
"And you would kill her without hesitation."
The man looked at me.
Something like pity crossed his face.
"She doesn't have to become one."
Too late for that.
I could feel it now.
The hunger had turned into pain.
Not sharp.
Deep.
A hollow pressure spreading slowly through my chest.
I leaned against the stone wall for a moment.
Kael noticed immediately.
"You feel it," he said quietly.
"I'm fine."
"You are not."
"Stop telling me what I feel."
"You are shaking."
I looked down.
He was right.
My hands were trembling again.
The zealot saw it too.
His expression hardened.
"Don't give him what he wants," he said quietly.
Kael crouched down beside me.
The movement was slow and deliberate, like he didn't want to startle me.
"I am not your enemy in this moment," he said softly.
"That's debatable."
"Perhaps."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Your body is beginning to weaken."
"I can last longer."
"Yes," he said. "But not indefinitely."
The hunger surged again.
The sound of the zealot's heartbeat seemed louder now.
Every pulse echoed through my skull.
I hated it.
I hated how my mouth felt dry.
How my throat tightened when I swallowed.
Kael studied my face carefully.
"You do not need to kill him," he said.
My head snapped toward him.
"What?"
"Feed," he clarified. "Not slaughter."
"That's the same thing."
"Not necessarily."
The zealot glared at him.
"You're splitting hairs."
Kael ignored him.
"Aria," he said gently.
I met his gaze.
"You are starving."
"I'll manage."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"And when the hunger becomes unbearable?"
I didn't answer.
He didn't push.
He just waited.
The zealot's heartbeat thudded again.
Again.
Again.
Each beat felt like a hammer inside my head.
My breath grew shallow.
"This is insane," I whispered.
"No," Kael said quietly. "This is inevitable."
The hunger surged one more time.
Something inside me snapped.
I turned toward the cage.
The zealot stiffened immediately.
"Don't," he said.
But my feet were already moving.
The light bars hummed softly as I approached.
Up close, I could see the pulse in his throat.
Warm.
Alive.
I hesitated.
My stomach twisted violently.
"You still have a choice," he said quietly.
My hand touched the glowing bars.
They parted for me.
Kael must have opened them.
I stepped inside.
The zealot stared at me.
Hatred.
Fear.
And something else.
Resignation.
"Go on then," he muttered. "Become what he made you."
My hands were shaking.
"I didn't want this," I whispered.
"No one does."
The hunger roared.
My control broke.
I grabbed his shoulders and sank my teeth into his neck.
The world went silent.
For a moment there was only warmth.
Blood flooded my mouth, thick and metallic and alive.
Power surged through my body instantly.
The hollow ache in my chest vanished.
Strength poured back into my limbs.
The zealot struggled once.
Then weaker.
Then barely at all.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized what was happening.
And I hated myself for not stopping.
When I finally pulled away, he collapsed forward.
The light inside his skin flickered.
Then faded.
Dead.
My hands were covered in blood.
My mouth tasted like iron.
The horror hit me all at once.
"Oh god," I whispered.
My knees buckled.
Kael caught me before I hit the floor.
His hands were steady.
Warm.
He lifted my face gently.
Blood smeared across his fingers as he held my cheeks.
I realized I was crying.
"I didn't want to—"
"Shh."
His voice was quiet.
Almost tender.
"Don't weep," he said softly.
His blood-stained thumb brushed beneath my eye.
"The first death is always the hardest."
That made the tears come harder.
"You made me do it," I whispered.
"No."
"You knew I would break."
"Yes."
"Then how is that not the same thing?"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
He just held my face in his hands, studying me carefully.
"Because now you understand," he said quietly.
"Understand what?"
"That survival carries a cost."
I looked down at the body behind me.
My stomach twisted again.
"I killed him."
"Yes."
"And you're comforting me."
"Yes."
"That's twisted."
"Perhaps."
His hands remained steady on my face.
"But you are still here," he said.
The chamber felt too quiet.
The cage of light flickered faintly behind us.
I wiped my mouth with shaking fingers.
The hunger was gone.
But the memory of it remained.
So did the guilt.
Kael finally released my face.
"Come," he said quietly.
I didn't move.
"Aria."
I looked up at him.
"What happens the next time?" I asked.
His expression didn't change.
"You decide whether the cost is worth paying again."
I stared at the dead zealot.
And for the first time since becoming something else—
I understood exactly how heavy that decision would always be.