They left the ruins before dawn.
Lucien walked ahead, silent as a shadow, while Elara followed through the mist, clutching the cloak he'd given her. The forest stretched endlessly, washed pale by the rising sun. She didn't know where they were going, only that going back meant death.
Behind them, smoke still rose from the Vale Estate. The night's violence felt like a half-remembered dream until the screams replayed in her mind, sharp and real.
"Did… all of them die?" she asked quietly.
Lucien didn't turn. "No. One survived."
"Adrian," she whispered.
Lucien glanced over his shoulder, eyes unreadable. "The one who called your name when I found you. He lives. Barely."
Elara's chest tightened. "You could have killed him."
"I could have," Lucien said. "But mercy is a habit I can't seem to break."
She studied his face, half-lit by dawn. There was no pride in his tone, only weariness, as if the act of sparing a life had cost him more than taking one.
They reached a river by noon. The water moved slow and dark, reflecting the crimson light of the sky. The blood moon had begun to rise early, glowing faintly behind thin clouds strange, unnatural.
Lucien stopped at the edge, eyes narrowing. "It begins."
"What does?"
"The awakening." He looked at her then, and something in his gaze made her heart pound. "You've felt it, haven't you? The pull. The dreams. The voice in the dark."
She hesitated. "Yes."
"The curse doesn't sleep forever," he murmured. "When your blood called me from death, the bond rekindled. It's stronger each night."
Elara frowned. "You make it sound like I summoned you."
"You did," he said simply. "Not with magic, but with need. With desperation strong enough to pierce centuries."
Her breath caught. "I didn't mean to…"
He stepped closer, the air between them tightening. "Meaning is irrelevant. You wanted freedom. I wanted release. The curse bound both wishes into one."
She backed away slightly, the river lapping at her heels. "So what happens now?"
Lucien's eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the moon's red shimmer. "Now, we run until the blood moon is full. When it rises at its peak, the curse will demand its price."
"What price?"
He smiled sadly. "You'll know when it comes for you."
Elara shivered. "You speak in riddles."
"It's safer than truth."
They walked until twilight bled across the trees. When they finally stopped, Lucien gathered wood and lit a small fire. Its glow painted his face in soft gold, less a monster now, more a man standing on the edge of regret.
Elara sat across from him. "You could have left me. Why didn't you?"
Lucien's eyes lifted slowly to hers. "Because I see too much of myself in you. And I cannot bear to watch another soul choose a cage."
Something inside her broke then the last fragile wall she'd built between fear and trust. "You don't have to be alone," she whispered.
He looked away. "I already am."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It hummed with something fragile and forbidden. When she finally slept beside the fire, Lucien stayed awake, watching the sky as the blood moon climbed higher.
Far behind them, in the smoldering remains of the Vale Estate, Adrian Alderidge stirred among the ashes. His arm was burned, his eyes hollow, but his voice was steady when he whispered, "I'll find you, Elara."
Then he looked toward the crimson moon.
And somewhere in the shadows, something ancient whispered back.