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"Thalassa!" The voice calling my name was laced with panic and fury. "Damn it, Thalassa! Open your eyes!"

My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as if I had lost all control over my body. It was terrifying. Yet, the voice refused to relent.

"Thalassa! Stay with me! Open your eyes!"

With each desperate cry of my name, my awareness began to stir, dragging me back into the unbearable agony that awaited me. Pain—blinding, excruciating—ripped through me. My lungs burned, fighting for breath.

Consciousness was torture.

A silent scream twisted my lips as my body convulsed under the weight of my suffering. Somehow, I forced my eyes open. The world blurred, shapes shifting in and out of focus until I managed to make out the figures looming over me. Faces strained with worry. And Hadrian—kneeling on the ground, clutching me in his arms.

As my gaze locked onto his, I saw the relief flicker in his eyes before determination took hold. Without hesitation, he slashed his palm with a claw, letting his blood drip directly into my mouth. I swallowed, the thick warmth searing down my throat like liquid fire.

"That’s it, Thalassa… drink. Stay with me," Hadrian coaxed, his fingers threading gently through my hair.

But what he asked of me felt impossible. The pain was too much. My body knew—this time, there was no healing, no miraculous recovery. I was fading, my life bleeding out with every agonizing second.

I struggled for one last breath, my gaze fixed on his. A faint, broken whisper escaped my lips.

"I’m… sorry."

And then, I let go.

"No! Don’t you dare leave me like this! Do you hear me?!" His voice was raw with desperation, but it was too late. This was a battle I could not win.

His anguished cry was the last thing I heard before the world dissolved into silence.

\---

Time lost all meaning.

Somewhere in the void, a fragment of my consciousness stirred. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel. But my vision flickered, shifting from nothingness to blurred, shifting shades. Then, slowly, the shapes sharpened into something tangible.

And I saw… myself.

I was lying in a stark white hospital bed, motionless. An oxygen mask covered my face, a tube running down my throat. Machines kept me breathing, their rhythmic beeping the only sign of life. Bandages wrapped around my torso, some stained with pink where blood seeped through. An IV dripped steadily into my arm, synchronized with the steady hum of the monitors.

I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t restless.

I was furious.

After everything I had endured, I wasn’t ready to die. We had won. I had survived. I had yet to uncover the truth of Hadrian’s feelings, to see where this fragile connection between us could lead. I wasn’t done fighting. I refused to let it end like this.

The door creaked open, and Hadrian entered with Caspian at his side.

Caspian looked polished as ever, his white medical coat draped over a neatly pressed three-piece suit. Hadrian, in stark contrast, was a wreck. Dressed in dirt-streaked combat pants and a black fitted shirt, he looked like he hadn’t left the battlefield. His face was drawn, haunted.

"You don’t have time to hesitate," Caspian said, folding his arms.

Hadrian sank onto the bed, his fingers curling around my hand. "I gave her my blood… Why isn’t she healing?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I warned you it wouldn’t work this time," Caspian replied, his tone grim. "That bastard’s claws did too much damage. Her organs are failing, and the internal bleeding is too severe. Even with her abilities, she isn’t immortal."

Hadrian’s grip tightened. "Tell me what to do."

Caspian exhaled, his expression unreadable. "Turn her. Make her one of us. Or prepare yourself to say goodbye."

Hadrian’s jaw clenched. "If I turn her, she won’t be the same. She’ll be bound to the night, unable to walk in the sun. She’ll hate me for it."

"But she’ll be alive," Caspian countered. "And who knows? She’s not an ordinary human. The transformation may not be as simple as you think."

A wry smile flickered across Caspian’s lips, an attempt at reassurance. But Hadrian wasn’t looking at him anymore. His gaze was locked onto me, searching for an answer only I could give.

If only I could speak.

Hadrian sat motionless, his gaze fixed on my unconscious body as his fingers absently traced the back of my hand.

"Drink from her. Do it while your blood still lingers in her system," Caspian urged, his voice firm with urgency.

Hadrian's expression darkened, his grip tightening. "That would mean killing her," he hissed, shrugging off Caspian’s hand from his shoulder.

Caspian exhaled sharply, exasperation creeping into his tone. "Seriously? Hate to break it to you, but she’s already gone. Look!" He gestured at the machine beside me, its rhythmic beeping filling the room. "This thing is the only reason she’s still here!"

"You think I don’t know that?" Hadrian snapped, his voice raw with frustration.

Caspian raised his hands in surrender. "You can’t survive without her, and she can’t survive unless you turn her. There’s no other way, Hadrian. The choice is obvious."

A muscle in Hadrian’s jaw twitched. His clenched fist trembled, knuckles paling under the strain. His eyes burned with conflict, a storm of emotions warring inside him.

"Fine," he bit out, his voice tight with restrained anguish. "Turn everything off. Leave me alone with her."

Caspian bowed slightly, as if in acknowledgment of a decree. "As you wish, my King." Without hesitation, he called for a nurse to assist him.

Though I was nothing more than a lingering fragment of consciousness, floating between realms, I could still feel something—something faint and distant, like a phantom pain echoing in my hollow chest. When Hadrian met my gaze, his sorrow seeped into me, cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could.

He rose from my bedside, allowing the nurse and Caspian to move around me, but his eyes never wavered. He was watching me as if he were already mourning, as if he were saying goodbye. Was that truly the fate he had chosen for me?

No. I refused to believe it.

I wanted to scream, to beg him not to let me go. I wanted to reach out, to cling to whatever thread of life still tethered me to him. I didn't care what I had to become—so long as I could stay by his side.

Hadrian… please. Don’t leave me.

As if hearing my silent plea, he suddenly bared his fangs. His irises burned crimson, his hunger, his torment, laid bare. Then, in one swift motion, he sank his teeth into my neck.

Agony tore through me. The sharp puncture brought me crashing back into my body, a violent jolt of sensation flooding through my veins. I could feel Hadrian—his lips grazing my skin, his hands anchoring me as he drank, as he consumed the last remnants of my life.

It hurt. It was raw, searing, and all-consuming. But I knew—I knew—I wasn’t the only one suffering. His entire body trembled as he took from me, as if each drop of blood he stole was a wound carved into his own soul.

His fingers tangled gently in my hair, his thumb brushing across my cheek in a silent apology. But there was no stopping now. The damage was done.

And then—darkness.

I died.

The first breath I took was ragged, tearing from my throat in a hoarse gasp. My eyes flew open, and I found myself sprawled across a vast bed, enveloped in sheets so soft they barely felt real. An ornate canopy loomed above me, its intricate designs whispering of royalty and old-world elegance.

The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but the space felt familiar—like a chamber within a grand palace. Yet, this room was different. Larger. More lavish.

Tentatively, I ran a hand over my chest. No bandages. No pain. Nothing to indicate the wounds that had once marked my flesh. My fingers drifted toward my mouth, searching for any sign of change. But my teeth felt the same.

"Heartbeat," I murmured.

I pressed two fingers against my wrist, searching for the rhythm of life. My pulse was slow. Unnaturally so. Just like Hadrian’s.

I was different.

I was no longer human.

A sudden, restless urgency gripped me, pulling me from the bed. My feet carried me toward the window, toward the answer I both feared and craved.

Pausing just before the heavy drapes, I hesitated. Would the sunlight sear my skin? Would it confirm that I was now a creature of the night, bound to shadows for eternity?

With a deep breath, I grasped the curtain’s edge and tugged it back just enough to let a sliver of sunlight pierce through.

I braced for pain.

Instead, warmth kissed my skin.

A choked breath escaped me, my fingers trembling as I extended my hand fully into the golden rays. The sunlight bathed my skin in a soft glow, not burning, not harming. Just… warm.

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, unbidden and free. Without hesitation, I yanked the curtains open, throwing myself into the light. The sun painted my face in gold, wrapping me in its embrace, and for the first time since my death—since my rebirth—relief crashed over me.

Tears burned my eyes as my throat tightened with overwhelming emotion.

"I’m alive!" I cried, my voice echoing through the chamber, as if daring the world to deny me.

Because no matter what I had become—no matter what had changed—I was alive.

And that was all that mattered.