The night was heavy with silence. Even the crickets seemed to hide when the moon turned a pale red. Elena stood at the balcony of the old mansion, her hands clutching the cold iron railing. She could feel something stirring inside her veins, like fire and ice running at the same time.
Lucian appeared behind her, his presence steady, warm, and strong. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Elena," he whispered, "you've been restless all night. What troubles you?"
She turned her head, her dark hair brushing her cheeks. "It's him. Darius. The ancestor. I feel him… calling me."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "That's why we must perform the oath tonight. If his power is growing, we need to bind you before he takes more control."
Elena frowned. "And what if I fail the oath?"
Lucian stepped closer, his eyes softening. "Then I will not let you face him alone. We fight together. Always."
Her heart ached. She wanted to believe him, to lean into his warmth forever, but the whisper of Darius in her mind made her blood race. You are mine. You carry my legacy. You cannot escape.
The chapel beneath the mansion was lit with hundreds of candles. The air smelled of wax and dried roses. A silver bowl sat at the center of a carved stone altar, filled with crimson liquid—blood from the line of guardians who had sworn to protect the village for centuries.
Elena approached it slowly, her footsteps echoing. The villagers' priest, an old man with trembling hands, lifted a dagger etched with runes. "Your blood must meet theirs. Once joined, the oath will hold your spirit to this world, not his."
Lucian squeezed her hand. "You can do this."
Elena nodded, but as the blade touched her palm, a sudden wave of heat shot through her body. The candles flickered. Her vision blurred, and in the haze, she saw him—Darius.
Tall, draped in black robes, his eyes glowing like burning coals. He stood across the altar, though no one else seemed to see him. His voice was low, commanding, yet strangely gentle.
"Elena, don't bind yourself to them. They fear you. They will use you. But I… I love you. You are my blood, my eternal heir. Choose me."
Her heart pounded. The dagger nicked her skin, and a drop of her blood fell into the bowl. The liquid hissed, glowing faintly.
Lucian's voice broke the silence. "Stay with me, Elena. Don't listen to him."
But Darius's presence grew stronger, his form sharper, more real. His hand reached toward her, though it was like smoke. "You are destined to stand beside me. Together, we will rule eternity. Your soul already leans toward mine—you feel it, don't you?"
Tears welled in Elena's eyes. She wanted freedom, she wanted love, but she could not deny the pull that tied her to him. It was dark, forbidden, yet intoxicating.
Her blood dripped faster into the bowl. The runes glowed brighter. The oath was nearly complete.
Darius's voice turned desperate, almost pleading. "If you finish, the bond between us will weaken. You will be chained to them, to mortality, to pain. Choose me, Elena… or regret it forever."
Her body trembled. Lucian caught her before she could collapse, holding her close. "Don't give in," he whispered against her hair. "You are stronger than him."
But deep in her heart, Elena knew this was only the beginning. No oath could silence the call of her ancestor's blood.
The bowl of blood flared, and the chapel filled with light. The oath was sealed. Yet when Elena opened her eyes, Darius was still there, watching, smiling faintly as if he had already won