The morning after his first kill, Aiden didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. The taste of blood still lingered on his tongue, sweet and haunting. His veins hummed with power, but his mind screamed with guilt.

Lucien lay beside him, half-covered in silk sheets, watching quietly. His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light predator’s eyes, calm and unreadable.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmured.

Aiden turned toward him. “How can I not? I took someone’s life, Lucien.”

Lucien’s fingers brushed against Aiden’s lips. “You borrowed it. You didn’t kill. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Aiden repeated softly.

Lucien smiled darkly. “You’ll understand soon. There are worse monsters out there than us.”

That afternoon, Aiden stood before the mirror again still no reflection. Just that shimmer of red light where his eyes should be.

He didn’t hear Lucien leave. He didn’t notice the silence until the door creaked open hours late, but it wasn’t Lucien who walked in.

A man in a long black coat stepped through, carrying a small silver cross that glinted in the light. His voice was calm, controlled.

“So… the rumors were true.”

Aiden froze. “Who are you?”

The man smiled coldly. “Someone who kills your kind.”

Before Aiden could react, the man drew a pure silver dagger with edges etched with holy runes. The air around it sizzled.

Pain exploded through Aiden’s chest as the weapon sliced across his skin. Smoke rose from the wound, burning, hissing.

He staggered back, gasping. “What the hell ”

“Silver and faith,” the man said softly. “Two things that can still make you bleed.”

Aiden’s fangs dropped instinctively, his eyes glowing crimson.

The man smiled. “Good. Let me see the demon they turned you into.”

Lucien appeared before the man could strike again a blur of black and fury. The dagger flew from the hunter’s hand, crashing against the wall.

“Touch him again,” Lucien hissed, voice low and feral, “and I’ll rip your heart out through your throat.”

The hunter smirked. “Lucien Vale. The fallen prince of the Blood Court.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “You know nothing of me.”

“Oh, I know enough,” the hunter said. “I know you broke the law. I know you turned him. And I know the Council will burn you both for it.”

Before Lucien could answer, the hunter vanished elting into the shadows like smoke. Only the scent of silver and blood remained.

Aiden clutched his wound, trembling. “What did he mean? What law?”

Lucien turned away, jaw tight. “Turning a human without permission. It’s forbidden. Especially one with your… voice.”

“My voice?”

Lucien met his gaze, eyes softening. “You still don’t understand what you are.”

Aiden took a step closer. “Then tell me.”

Lucien hesitated, torn between truth and protection. “You’re more than human, Aiden. You always were. That’s why your music reached me, as it reached them. You’re part of the prophecy the Blood Court fears.”

“The prophecy?”

“That a mortal’s voice would awaken the old power,” Lucien whispered. “A power that could end the vampire race… or rule it.”

Aiden stared at him, breath unsteady. “And you turned me anyway.”

Lucien smiled faintly. “I don’t believe in fate. I believe in us.”

That night, the wound still burned. The silver had touched something deeper than flesh.

Aiden sat on the balcony, staring at the moon.

He could feel eyes on him watching from afar. The same hunter. The same cold stare.

But there was something else. A whisper in his mind not Lucien’s voice, but something older, darker.

Do you think you’re his equal, child?

Aiden froze. “Who are you?”

I am what he fears. What you’re becoming.

The voice echoed, deep and ancient, like a heartbeat beneath the earth.

Lucien appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Aiden’s waist. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured.

Aiden nodded slowly. “There’s something inside me. Something calling.”

Lucien’s eyes glowed. “That’s your true hunger. It’s not just blood anymore, it’s power.”

He pressed his lips against Aiden’s neck, fangs grazing the skin lightly. “And I’ll teach you how to use it.”

The night wind rose, carrying the distant sound of sirens and whispers. Somewhere across the city, the hunter stood on another rooftop, watching them through the scope of a silver rifle.

He lowered the weapon, voice cold and sure.

“One kill isn’t enough. I’ll burn them all.”

The first bullet in the chamber bore a name engraved in blood:

AIDEN VALE.