Trisha barely remembered the drive home.
Daniel's voice had been warm, easy, filling the silence between them as the city lights blurred past the window. He had tried—genuinely tried—to make the evening feel normal again after the strange moment at the restaurant.
And for a while, she had let him.
She had laughed.
Answered.
Pretended.
But the bond had never truly gone quiet.
It lingered beneath her skin like a restless pulse.
Watching. Waiting.
Aware.
When the car finally stopped outside her apartment building, she felt an odd sense of relief.
Safe.
Familiar.
Normal.
Daniel stepped out first and walked around to open her door. The gesture was simple, kind—so painfully human it made something twist inside her chest.
"Thanks for tonight," he said softly.
Trisha managed a small smile. "Yeah… I had a good time."
And that wasn't entirely a lie.
He hesitated for a second, then leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.
It was gentle.
Warm.
Innocent.
"Goodnight, Trisha," he murmured.
The bond reacted instantly.
A sharp flicker of heat spread beneath her collarbone—not pain, but awareness.
Watching.
Always watching.
Daniel pulled back, oblivious.
"We should do this again," he added, smiling. "Maybe somewhere less… candle-heavy."
A faint laugh escaped her. "Yeah. Definitely."
He lingered for a moment, as if considering saying something more.
Then he stepped back.
"Text me when you're inside?"
"I will."
She turned and walked toward the building without looking back.
She didn't need to.
She could feel his eyes on her.
Human.
Safe.
Simple.
And somehow…
It already felt like something she was losing.
*****
The moment she stepped inside her apartment, the silence hit her.
Heavy.
Still.
Wrong.
Trisha frowned slightly as she locked the door behind her.
Her fingers lingered on the handle.
Something in her chest tightened.
The bond stirred.
Not warm.
Not restless.
Alert.
Her gaze swept slowly across the living room.
Everything looked normal.
The couch.
The small coffee table.
The faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains.
Nothing out of place.
Nothing disturbed.
And yet—
Her skin prickled.
She kicked off her shoes slowly, her movements cautious now.
"Okay… you're just overthinking," she muttered under her breath.
But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true.
The feeling didn't leave.
It deepened.
Like stepping into a room where someone had just been standing moments ago.
Or worse—
Was still there.
Watching.
Her pulse quickened.
"Hello?" she called out softly.
No answer.
Of course not.
She let out a slow breath, forcing herself to relax.
You're tired.
That's all.
It's been a weird night.
She took a step forward.
Then another.
And that was when the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
Trisha froze.
The bond flared.
Hot.
Sharp.
Danger.
Her breath hitched.
"No…" she whispered.
The air in the room shifted.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
Colder.
Heavier.
Behind her.
A voice drifted through the silence.
Soft.
Amused.
"You shouldn't ignore instincts like that."
Trisha's entire body went rigid.
Slowly—
Too slowly—
She turned.
He stood near the window.
Leaning casually against the wall as if he had always been there.
Pale.
Still.
Smiling.
His eyes glinted faintly in the dim light.
Not silver like Rowan's.
Darker.
Hungrier.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
"You—" her voice broke. "How did you—"
"Get in?" he finished lightly.
His smile widened.
"You really should invest in better locks."
The bond burned.
Not with familiarity.
With warning.
Her instincts screamed.
Run.
But her feet wouldn't move.
The vampire tilted his head, studying her.
"Interesting," he murmured.
His gaze dropped briefly to her collarbone.
The mark.
She instinctively stepped back, covering it with her hand.
His smile sharpened.
"Oh yes," he said softly. "I can feel it from here."
Fear crawled up her spine.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it.
He pushed off the wall slowly.
Every movement deliberate.
Predatory.
"What do I want?" he echoed, amused.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
"I want to understand," he said quietly.
"Because I've never seen anything quite like you."
The bond pulsed violently now.
Rowan.
Where was he—
The vampire's eyes flickered back to her face.
"And the scent," he added, inhaling softly. "God… it's stronger here."
Trisha's back hit the wall.
Nowhere left to retreat.
"Stay away from me."
He stopped just a few feet away.
Close enough that she could see the faint veins beneath his pale skin.
Close enough that the air around her felt suffocating.
"Tell me," he said softly, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "Does it hurt when he feeds from you?"
Her stomach dropped.
"He hasn't—"
The vampire laughed.
A low, chilling sound.
"Not yet?" he said.
His eyes darkened.
"That's disappointing."
The bond snapped.
Rage.
Cold.
Explosive.
It slammed into her so suddenly she gasped.
The vampire's head tilted slightly.
"Ah," he murmured. "There he is."
The next moment—
The door exploded inward.
Wood splintered.
Metal screamed.
And Rowan was there.
Not calm.
Not controlled.
Fury incarnate.
He crossed the room in a blur of motion and slammed into the other vampire with brutal force, driving him straight through the far wall.
Concrete cracked.
Furniture shattered.
The entire apartment shook.
Trisha screamed, stumbling back as debris scattered across the floor.
The two vampires moved too fast for her eyes to follow.
A blur of violence.
Impact.
Sound.
Rowan's fist connected with the other vampire's jaw with a sickening crack.
The hunter laughed even as blood spilled from his mouth.
"Now this is more interesting—"
Rowan grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground hard enough to dent it.
"You came into my territory," Rowan said, his voice low, lethal. "Into her home."
The vampire grinned up at him.
"And you marked a human."
Rowan's grip tightened.
"Leave."
The hunter's eyes flickered toward Trisha.
Still watching.
Still calculating.
"Not before I understand what she is," he said softly.
That was the moment Rowan lost it.
Trisha felt it through the bond.
The control snapping.
The restraint shattering.
Rowan moved with terrifying speed.
His fangs descended.
His eyes burned brighter.
And for a split second—
He didn't look human at all.
He drove the other vampire into the wall again, harder this time, cracking brick and bone alike.
The hunter snarled now, fighting back.
They collided again.
Violence.
Pure.
Unrestrained.
Trisha pressed herself against the wall, her hands trembling, her heart racing wildly.
She could feel everything.
Rowan's rage.
His need to destroy.
His fear.
All of it flooding through her.
"Rowan—" she gasped.
He didn't hear her.
Or maybe he did—
and didn't care.
The hunter twisted suddenly, slipping free just enough to strike back.
His claws raked across Rowan's side.
Blood splattered.
Dark.
Sharp.
Rowan didn't even flinch.
He grabbed the vampire again—
And slammed him through the window.
Glass shattered.
The night air rushed in.
For a brief moment—
Silence.
Then—
The hunter's laughter echoed from outside.
Fading.
Retreating.
Gone.
Rowan stood still in the ruined apartment.
Breathing slow.
Controlled again.
But the damage was done.
The bond trembled between them.
Unstable.
Dangerous.
He turned.
His silver eyes locked onto her.
Trisha froze.
Because there was still something wild in his gaze.
Something that hadn't fully settled.
"You're hurt," she whispered.
His gaze flicked briefly to her bleeding hand.
Then back to her face.
"I told you to stay away from him," he said.
Her fear snapped into anger instantly.
"You don't get to tell me what to do!" she shot back. "You don't get to just show up and—"
"He came here for you."
His voice cut through hers like a blade.
Cold.
Final.
She fell silent.
"He followed your scent," Rowan continued. "He knows what you are now."
Her stomach twisted.
"What I am?" she whispered.
Rowan stepped closer.
Too close.
The air between them tightened instantly.
"You're marked," he said quietly. "That makes you visible. Valuable. Vulnerable."
Her breath hitched.
"I didn't ask for this."
"No," he said.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"But you have it."
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy.
Charged.
"What happens now?" she asked finally.
Rowan's expression darkened.
"He won't stop."
The words settled like ice in her chest.
"He'll come back," Rowan continued. "Stronger. Smarter."
Fear curled deep inside her.
"So what do I do?" she whispered.
Rowan held her gaze.
"You come with me."
Her heart skipped.
"What?"
"You're not safe here," he said. "Not anymore."
She shook her head immediately.
"No. I'm not just—leaving with you."
"You don't have a choice."
Anger flared again.
"I always have a choice."
Rowan stepped even closer.
Close enough that she could feel the cold radiating from him.
The bond pulsed sharply.
"Then stay," he said quietly. "And the next time he comes… I may not get here in time."
The words hit harder than anything else.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Trisha looked around her apartment.
The broken wall.
The shattered glass.
The door hanging off its hinges.
Nothing about this place felt safe anymore.
Nothing about her life felt normal anymore.
Her chest tightened.
"…If I come with you," she said slowly, "this doesn't mean I trust you."
Rowan's expression didn't change.
"I don't need you to trust me."
Her breath caught.
"I need you alive."
The words settled deep.
Dangerously deep.
She swallowed.
Then nodded once.
"Fine."
Rowan didn't waste another second.
He stepped forward, gripping her wrist—not gently, but not hurting her either.
The bond flared instantly at the contact.
"Stay close," he said.
The world shifted.
The next moment—
They were gone.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
And then—
The mansion.
Cold.
Silent.
Rowan released her slowly.
Trisha stumbled slightly, her heart still racing from the sudden movement.
Her eyes lifted to the grand staircase.
The dim lighting.
The endless shadows.
"This place…" she whispered.
Rowan's gaze remained on her.
"Yes."
The bond pulsed again.
Different than his penthouse .
Deeper.
More dangerous.