Ryak returned before dawn, silent as a shadow. His meditation journey had lasted longer than planned—a desperate attempt to reclaim his sanity and redeem himself after nearly causing the death of the girl he still didn't fully understand his feelings for. Kidnapped sounded wrong to him. No… he was hiding her. Keeping her. For himself. He told himself he was only keeping her so he could drink her blood and grow stronger.
But he knew that was a lie—because hunger alone never came with feelings this dangerous.
He can't stand the look of the disgust and fear in her eyes—whether from what he can do or what he did before. He remembers it vividly, even though he keeps trying to shake it off, whispering to himself that that was the old me. But the truth claws at him: he's still struggling to understand this new feeling he keeps trying to deny.
He had come back sharper, calmer—until he stepped through the door.
Everything inside the house was exactly where he'd left it. That alone was strange. Ivy hated stillness; she couldn't stand seeing the same arrangement for more than a day. But even that wasn't what made his muscles tense.
It was the scents.
Unfamiliar ones. Human ones.
And others.
One smelled of damp earth, dried herbs, spring rain, and lavender breeze—a witch. She had been here. She had broken the veil and re-cast it… but why could her scent still linger so thickly?
But the one that chilled him was different.
Colder. Stronger.
A presence woven of storm winds, black cedar, smoked amber, iron-touched strength, and the faintest thorny note of midnight roses. Not human. Not close. Something powerful—powerful enough to end him if it wished.
But none of that compared to the thing that froze his blood.
Penelope's scent… faint. Fading.
Almost gone.
Her sweet blend of vanilla orchid, night-blooming jasmine, silver musk, and the soft, thorn-kissed trail of roses—the scent that intoxicated him, that awakened something he refused to name.
Love?
No. Impossible. He could not be falling for her.
Yet something primal and ugly twisted inside him. For the first time since his meditation… fear and rage collided in his chest.
"No…" he breathed, voice breaking into a growl.
"They are messing with the wrong vampire."
His breathing sharpened. Power surged. The floorboards trembled as he flashed to her room.
Chaos.
A chair overturned.
Broken glass from the shattered vase glittering like ice.
Books shredded.
Curtains ripped apart.
The smell of damp soil from the broken vase thick in the air.
And beneath it all—those same intruding scents.
They had been here.
They had invaded his territory.
They had taken her. Or at least that's what he thought. They and not Ivy.
And Ryak felt a fury unlike anything he had ever known ignite inside him.
In a fit of rage, he stormed toward the wall, ready to punch straight through it—until he noticed the large hole Kael had already left there.
"You…" he growled, but the thought died on his tongue as the entrance door creaked open. Soft footsteps followed.
Ivy.
"I'll deal with you after I'm done with this living poison," he muttered through clenched teeth, fury vibrating through every word.
Ryak walked into the living room, and Ivy greeted him with a wide, bright smile—like she hadn't just tried to hand Penelope over to strangers, only for the girl to fall off a cliff and now she might be dead.
"Ryak! You're back!" she chirped, rushing forward to hug him.
He shoved her away—hard. She stumbled but managed not to fall.
"What the hell, Ryak?! You come back and the first thing you do is shove me? Seriously?" Ivy snapped, exhausted by the whole Penelope situation.
"Excuse you?" Ryak's voice dropped into something dark and lethal. His eyes blackened, shadows flickering within them. Ivy felt goosebumps crawl across her skin—like he could slice her in half without blinking.
"I was just joking, Ryak bunny," she tried to laugh, stepping closer despite the tremble in her voice. She reached for his hand, desperate to lighten the mood, but Ryak yanked her hand away.
He leaned in until his breath brushed her face, voice low and dangerous.
"Where…
Is…
She?"
Ivy swallowed hard. In that moment, she was certain she saw something monstrous flicker behind Ryak's eyes—something ready to tear her apart for doing what she thought was right.
Ivy swallowed. "I—I don't know…"
A lie.
Ryak didn't shout. He didn't snarl.
He just stared at Ivy with that cold, empty look—the kind that could frighten monsters.
"You don't know?" His eye twitched as a dark laugh slipped out. "Or did you let it happen because you were jealous?"
Ivy gulped. What is he talking about? Does he know?
Her eyes widened with fear, but she forced her voice steady.
"Ryak, bunny, I—"
"Don't you dare call me that," he cut in sharply. "Don't name me after such an inferior creature."
He stared at her, calculating—planning something she couldn't read.
"I—I did it for us, okay?" Ivy stepped closer, hands out like she could pull him into a hug. "I didn't want us interrupted or bothered by some vixen."
"Don't even think about touching me." He took a single step back.
"Why are you acting like this?" Ivy's voice cracked. "It's like she erased everything we've ever been through. Like I don't even know you anymore."
"I never wanted you anyway," he said through clenched teeth.
"Wow." Ivy let out a humorless laugh. "You know what? I'm glad she fell off that cliff. I hope she dies—she probably already has."
"You little—"
Ryak's hand closed around her throat—not in a wild rage, but with cold, controlled anger.
Ivy only smirked to herself. Same old routine, she thought. He'll choke me a little and toss me aside.
She was wrong.
Ryak dragged her across the room, her feet scraping the floor as she clawed at his hand. He hauled her through the house and shoved open the back door. The early sun was rising—not strong yet, but strong enough to frighten and hurt Ivy.
"No. No—Ryak, please!" she screamed, kicking backward.
But Ryak didn't pause.
"You want to understand real pain?" he whispered. "Let me teach you."
"Ryak—NO!"
He unlocked an iron chain bolted into the stone wall—one he had never needed until now—and snapped it around her wrists. Ivy thrashed, panic breaking through her voice.
"I didn't mean for her to fall! I just wanted to give her away as a blood-source slave—not kill her!"
"Boo-hoo," he said coldly, a faint smirk touching his lips.
He shoved her forward into the rising sunlight.
Ivy screamed as the light hit her. Her skin stung sharply, and she fell to the ground, trying to curl away from the brightness.
"Ryak! PLEASE! IT HURTS! I'M SORRY!"
Her cries echoed through the trees.
Ryak didn't react.
He didn't even look at her.
"This is mercy," he said quietly. "Compared to what you deserve."
Then he turned and walked into the forest, ignoring the faint burns the sunlight left on him.