Chapter 83

I was teetering on the edge of losing my sanity. Without hesitation, I bolted from my chamber and headed straight for the south wing, where I knew Freya would be. Relief washed over me the moment I spotted her seated in the corridor just outside the kitchen.

"Freya, please... call Doctor Caspian Blackwell and tell him to come immediately. It's urgent," I managed between ragged breaths.

Freya shot to her feet, her wide eyes scanning me frantically for any sign of injury. "A-are you sick? Do you have a fever? Are you hurt?" she stammered, circling me like a protective hawk.

"No," I said sharply. "Just do what I asked. Quickly, Freya—this is important."

Without another word, she nodded and hurried off to make the call.

I exhaled deeply, attempting to steady the turmoil within me as I returned to my room. Every step back was heavy with the hope that Caspian would take my plea seriously and arrive without delay. Once I closed my door, the gnawing unease returned, accompanied by a curious thought: should I test my strength again?

The memories flooded back—the shattered glass in my hand, the weight of the heavy boxes I had lifted with unnatural ease. My gaze landed on the antique wardrobe across the room. Could I lift that too? The idea both fascinated and terrified me. I approached it tentatively, hands outstretched, but froze.

What if I had become stronger? I had no idea what I was capable of—or worse, whether I could control it. The ridiculous image of myself hulking out and reducing the furniture to splinters crossed my mind.

"Get it together, Thalassa," I muttered aloud, forcing my thoughts back to reason. "Sit down. Wait for Caspian. Don't do anything stupid."

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my eyes fixed nervously on the clock as the seconds dragged on. If Caspian took his time, I was certain I’d spiral further into madness. The instant he appeared at my door, relief swept over me like a wave.

"What’s going on? Are you hurt?" he asked, hurrying to my side and inspecting me with sharp, professional eyes. "Freya said it was serious—"

"It is serious," I interrupted, nodding. I darted past him to shut the door, ensuring our privacy.

"You don’t look injured," he remarked, his gaze scanning me again.

"I’m not injured. That’s the problem," I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration. I reached for the knife on the table.

Caspian arched a brow, his lips quirking upward in mild amusement. "What are you planning to do—stab me?"

"No," I said dryly, holding up the blade. "It’s for me."

Before he could respond, I dragged the knife across my palm, leaving a wide, deep cut. Blood welled up immediately, its scent sharp in the air. Caspian’s reaction was instant—his fangs extended, and he recoiled, covering his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he barked, his voice muffled as he pulled a tissue from his pocket and stepped toward me.

"Don’t," I said, holding up my bleeding hand. "Just watch."

Caspian froze, his eyes narrowing as he observed. The wound that had moments ago gushed crimson began to knit itself back together, the skin sealing flawlessly in seconds. He stared at my hand, his expression shifting from confusion to something darker.

"When was the last time you drank Hadrian’s blood?" he asked, his voice low and wary.

"Two nights ago," I answered. "He let me drink a few drops to heal a cut on my cheek."

Caspian exhaled sharply and slumped into the nearest chair, resting his elbows on its back. His gaze remained fixed on my hand, though his thoughts seemed to be racing far beyond it.

"Could I still be affected by his blood?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Impossible," he muttered.

"Then what’s wrong with me?" I let out a hollow, almost hysterical laugh. "You said the blood bond from drinking his blood for the first time lasted over three years. Two days isn’t that long. Maybe his blood is still inside me, right?" I started pacing, gesturing wildly as I tried to piece the puzzle together.

Caspian’s sharp eyes followed my erratic movements. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured. "It doesn’t work like that. The bond can last much longer, but the healing ability is different. Think of it like a painkiller—it provides relief for a limited time, then fades. Even large amounts of vampire blood only work for a few hours at most. Unless," he added pointedly, "you die after drinking it. Then, of course, you’d turn into a commoner."

"A few hours..." I echoed, the room spinning slightly as the weight of his words sank in.

"Thalassa, focus," Caspian snapped, his voice cutting through the fog of my thoughts. "Have you noticed anything else that’s changed?

"I... I think I've become stronger," I murmured, forcing a wry smile as my heartbeat thundered in my chest, loud and erratic.

Caspian studied me closely, his keen eyes assessing every detail of my face and body. His sigh was heavy, as though the weight of the situation settled on him too. "I’ll collect a sample of your blood for testing," he said finally, his tone resolute. "Tomorrow, I want you to come to my lab for further tests." He attempted a reassuring smile and patted my shoulder lightly. "Don’t worry, Thalassa. I’ll figure out what’s happening to you."

I tried to match his confidence with an awkward grin, though my breaths remained shallow and uneven. Caspian guided me to sit, took my hand, and deftly extracted a blood sample. His calm assurances of "it’ll be fine" brushed against the edges of my frayed nerves. I returned a faint, hollow smile, pretending I was holding it together, even as I felt myself unraveling inside.

After he left, I found myself staring out the window, my gaze fixed on the driveway below. I half-hoped, half-prayed to see Hadrian’s car pull in, but the road remained empty and unforgiving. My thoughts spiraled, each one louder than the last, clawing at the edges of my mind. Why hasn’t he come back? I thought. He’d been gone for days before, but this time felt different—wrong. The King had summoned him, and now he was unreachable, leaving me with nothing but restless anxiety gnawing away at my sanity. Sleep was a luxury I could no longer afford. It was devoured by the unshakable sense that something was amiss.

That night, I watched every minute of the sunrise. My mind was too crowded, too restless to let me close my eyes. By dawn, I lay motionless on the bed, my face turned toward the window. Exhaustion weighed down my limbs, but the stress numbed me to it all. When the clock struck 7:30, I forced my body to move, dragging myself to the shower. The cold water hit my skin, sharp and biting, but it did nothing to rouse me. Strangely, I noticed that my body didn’t react. No shivers. No goosebumps. It was as if the icy chill simply didn’t register.

Curious, I turned the knob, letting hot water cascade over me. The heat should have been scalding, but it wasn’t—not the way it should have been. I felt the warmth, but there was no sting, no discomfort. My lips curved into a faint smirk, a flicker of amusement breaking through my otherwise blank expression. What is happening to me? The thought lingered, but I pushed it aside, chalking it up to the sleepless haze clouding my mind.

At eight o’clock, Freya arrived with breakfast, her expression brimming with concern. "You’re going to Caspian’s lab today, aren’t you?" she asked, her curiosity thinly veiled.

"There’s nothing wrong with me," I assured her flatly. "I’m not sick."

Her brow arched, and she leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. "Then… perhaps…" Her voice trailed off, and a sly look crossed her face. "When was your last period?"

I groaned, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "I’m not pregnant, Freya!"

"Then what’s so urgent?" she pressed, her voice rising with worry. "Why are you having tests done?"

I hesitated, then spun a quick lie. "It’s about my blood," I said casually, forcing a shrug. "I promised Caspian I’d give him a sample when Hadrian didn’t need it, and, well… since he’s away, I figured now’s a good time."

Freya’s skeptical gaze lingered, but I managed to plaster a convincing smile on my face. She didn’t push further, though I doubted she truly believed me. Perhaps she chose to respect my privacy instead of prying.

By nine, Elio arrived to drive me to Caspian’s lab. My blank expression must have alarmed him because he asked repeatedly if I was feeling okay. Each time, I nodded and gave him the same tired response, though my hollow demeanor betrayed my words.

Stepping into Caspian’s facility felt like walking into a maze of experiments. He’d prepared a battery of endurance and strength tests, hooking me up to monitors to track every parameter imaginable. The hours blurred together as he pushed my body to its limits, taking note of every anomaly. By the time he led me to his office, my nerves were frayed, but his grave expression made my heart sink further.

"I have all the results," he began, his voice carefully measured. "And I think I know what’s happening to you."

My eyes locked onto his, desperate for answers.

"Some of your genes activated when you reached adulthood," he explained. "That’s not unusual for someone like you. But now, other super-genes have awakened—ones that were dormant until recently. Something triggered them. That’s why your body is changing."

My breath hitched. "Changing into… into what?" My voice cracked with panic. "Am I turning into a wolf?"

Caspian grimaced, his reluctance evident as he exhaled deeply. "No, Thalassa. You’re not turning into a wolf," he said carefully. His next words hung heavy in the air. "You’re becoming something else…"