Gideon’s POV

She’s changing.

Not just the obvious things—like how she moves faster now, hears more, hungers differently—but deeper things. The way she looks at me. The way her scent reacts to mine. The way the tether between us tugs tighter every damn night.

Tonight, I almost kissed her.

And that terrified me more than it should have.

Not because I don’t want her—I do. I’ve wanted her since the hospital, since the moment she looked me in the eye and begged for a miracle with fire in her voice. But because wanting her feels dangerous. Because needing her feels like a weakness I haven’t allowed myself in centuries.

She doesn’t know what she’s becoming yet. But I do.

And I know what that kind of bond—what this kind of bond—does to creatures like us. It rewrites instincts. Redefines control. Turns the strongest of us Into something possessive, obsessive, hungry. Not for blood, but for the one who completes the bond.

For her.

I stand in the hall outside her room long after she’s fallen asleep. I shouldn’t be here. Not this close. Not breathing in her scent and memorizing the rhythm of her heartbeat. But the tether doesn’t care about what I should do. It pulls.

She sighs softly in her sleep, murmurs something unintelligible, and shifts under the blanket. Her pulse flutters. Her body, even in unconsciousness, is syncing with mine.

Soon, she’ll feel it too.

A knock sounds from behind me. I don’t move right away. Just inhale slowly before turning. Marcus, my second-in-command, stands there with arms crossed, the expression on his face bordering on amusement.

“You’re slipping,” he says.

I arch a brow. “Meaning?”

“You used to be cold. Detached. Now you’re standing outside a girl’s room like some lovesick teenager.”

“She’s not a girl,” I growl before I can stop myself. “She’s mine.”

Marcus just smirks. “That didn’t take long.”

I grit my teeth. “The bond is strong. Too strong.”

“Because you didn’t just turn her,” he says. “You tied her to a promise. To a sacrifice. That kind of choice? That burns deep. She’s not some fledgling you turned out of boredom. You made her for a reason.”

I look back at the door. “I made her to save her sister.”

“Right,” he nods. “But the moment you sealed that deal with blood, part of you knew it wouldn’t end there.”

That part hits harder than it should.

Before Evelyn, I was fading. Not in power. In purpose. You live long enough, and eternity stops feeling like a gift. But now… she makes the centuries ahead feel possible. Even if I’ll have to fight for every moment beside her.

“Something else you should know,” Marcus says, sobering. “We picked up activity near the outer woods. A scout, maybe. Not one of ours.”

My body stiffens. “Rogues?”

“Could be. Or someone sniffing around for the girl.”

I step toward him. “Tighten patrols. Double the wards. I don’t care who they are—I don’t want anything getting within a mile of her.”

He nods. “Already done.”

When he disappears down the hallway, I linger a few more seconds. Then I break my own rule and open her door.

Just a crack.

The moonlight slants through her window and spills across the bed. Evelyn is curled up, her hair fanned out on the pillow, her breathing deep and steady. Even in sleep, she looks powerful now—haunted, maybe—but radiant in a way that’s hard to explain. The kind of beauty that wasn’t bred for vanity. The kind that’s earned through fire.

I step inside. Quiet. Controlled.

But one step becomes two. And two becomes four.

I stop beside her bed.

Her scent wraps around me instantly—like crushed violets and warm skin and something that smells like memory. Not mine. Hers. I’ve never fed from her. Not directly. Not yet. But every vampire knows the scent of their chosen. Knows it in their bones.

My fingers twitch at my sides.

Don’t touch her.

Touching would make it harder to pretend I don’t already ache for her.

I crouch beside the bed instead. Let myself look at her fully. Her cheeks are flushed from recent feeding. She’s adapting fast. Faster than I expected. Her heart knows what her mind hasn’t caught up to yet.

“Evelyn,” I whisper, like a prayer, like a warning.

She shifts again, brow furrowing slightly. Her breath hitches—just once—and her lips part.

I swear, for half a second, she senses me there. Our bond pulses.

It takes everything in me to stand. To leave.

Because the next time I’m this close to her… I won’t just look.

I’ll taste.

I’ll claim.

And when that moment comes, there’ll be no turning back.

Not for me.

Not for her.

Because Evelyn may not know it yet… but she was mine the moment she bled for love.

The moment she trusted a monster to save what no one else could.

The moment she became one of us.

And I’ve waited far too long to let fate hand her to anyone else.