Days blurred into a rhythm of uneasy silence.
Lucien kept mostly to the shadows of the ruined halls, and Elara still recovering, stayed close to the small fire he had built. The air was always cool in the Vale Estate, even when flames danced, as if the stones themselves rejected warmth.
At first, she spoke only when necessary. "Water," "food," "leave me alone."
He didn't argue. He brought her what she needed, disappeared for hours, and returned with strange herbs that healed faster than any she'd seen.
But curiosity gnawed at her. Each time she caught his eyes reflecting the firelight, she felt the pull of questions unspoken. Finally, one evening, she broke the silence.
"You said my family owed you," she began. "What did you mean?"
Lucien stood by the window, rain running down the cracked glass. "It's not your fault," he said at last. "But your blood carries a promise broken long ago."
Elara frowned. "A promise?"
He turned toward her, his face unreadable. "Centuries ago, a woman came to me here. Her name was Maeve Venn."
Elara's breath caught. "My grandmother?"
His lips curved faintly. "Perhaps your ancestor. She was desperate to save her child. She offered me her life in exchange for his. I took only what I must, blood, enough to bind the oath. But when her son lived, she fled instead of returning to fulfill her side of the bargain."
Elara felt a chill crawl up her spine. "You mean she tricked you."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Mortals call it trickery. I call it betrayal."
He walked toward her slowly, every step echoing like a heartbeat through the ruined hall. "For that, I was cursed — not to die, not to live, but to wait. The line of Venn would always carry the scent of her promise. And when one of you stood upon this soil again…"
He stopped before her, eyes glowing faintly red. "…the debt would awaken."
Elara shook her head, voice trembling. "So what happens now? You'll kill me?"
Lucien looked at her for a long moment. "Once, that might have been enough. But I have grown weary of death. I want only what was stolen from me, release."
"Release?"
He knelt, meeting her eyes. "Your blood can break the curse. But it will cost you."
Her heart thudded. "How much?"
Lucien smiled, and for the first time, it was almost gentle. "More than you'd be willing to give."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and intimate. The fire crackled softly, throwing red light across his face. She realized then that despite his words, there was sorrow in his expression, centuries of loneliness pressed into every glance.
"You said you don't kill anymore," she said. "Why?"
Lucien's gaze drifted toward the ruined window. "Because every soul I've taken follows me still. When I close my eyes, I see their faces. I remember their names. I thought eternity meant power. It only means memory."
Elara felt her fear shift, not gone, but softer. She understood loneliness, if only in smaller doses.
"I won't let you die like that," she whispered.
He turned back sharply. "Careful, little Venn. Promises are what bound us here in the first place."
Outside, the storm had passed, leaving the forest silvered in moonlight. For a long while, they simply looked at each other. The cursed and the doomed, and neither could tell which one was which anymore.