I am Trans/ I play apex legends bloodhound is my main. Feel free to play with me I’m Ghost Wolf there too :3 the book “ 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗆 ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ℐ 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝒷ℯ𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 “ kurt coblain
I am Trans/ I play apex legends bloodhound is my main. Feel free to play with me I’m Ghost Wolf there too :3 the book “ 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗆 ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ℐ 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 𝒷ℯ𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈ℯ 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓎 𝒶𝓇ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 “ kurt coblain
Feeling hallow Feeling empty
Void of love Void of peace
Alone just drifting Through life
See all those people Happy and sad
Some angry some mad
See the couples holding hands See how the little ones dance
Can I feel somthing If I tried? Could I hold your hand If you cried
No it gose right through And you feel cold
If you were alone Could you see me
If I were free of this pain And able to walk again
Would you run into my arms Would I feel your warmth
If I held you would you stay If I were human what would you say?
But I’m just a ghost Empty with holes
I don’t have a place to go I feel so left alone in this house
Tell me if you could see me What would you do?
Would you run away? Thrust a cross in my face?
Or would you stand there And accept who I am?
Love me like you love your own kind
Tell me if I were real would you be my friend? Like I have been since you were young?
Don’t remember me? It’s ok
We would have tea together Stare at the rain I would sit with you when you were in pain
Everytime you hugged yourself I was there Wishing you’d see me
Voice of Angel That tells lies
Used to be friends But now…..
Tell me what changed? Behind that fake smile
Your love feels hallow I can’t deal with this sorrow
You told me you’d change But all I feel is pain
You said you loved me That your proud of me
All lies
Tell me where has the time gone? Back when I used to make you happy?
Back when we’d sing together As if the world didn’t fall apart
You left me to pick up the broken pieces Your laughter echos in my mind
I try to feel better you offered protection I just feel rejected
You say you’d come back…
I had to hug myself To feel ok
I wear a mask like a fake smile I put the broken peace’s of my heart Back together
I found a friend Yet I’m scared I’ll lose her
That she will reject me
That she will leave me
I’m scared that I’ll neglect her And give fake promises
I’m scared of turning into you
My dear sister all I feel is betrayal
Lucian inhaled deeply as he landed heavily upon the mossy rock, exhaustion gnawing at his bones. It had been a relentless week spent soaring through the skies, each beat of his wings a reminder of the urgency that drove him forward. The Gallows Swamp stretched before him, an area he had only glimpsed once in passing. Now, he ventured forth, knowing it was a risk worth taking, hoping for any lead on Rylan's whereabouts.
With renewed determination, Lucian staggered into the tavern, a wooden structure teetering on the edge of the water, its inviting glow beckoning amidst the mist. As he stepped inside, the warmth washed over him, contrasting sharply with the chill of the night air. Dancers of the fae twirled gracefully on a wooden stage, their glimmering skin and feathered wings creating a mesmerizing sight. Dwarfs adorned in thick beards roared with laughter, chugging ale in a drinking contest, while finxes—those cunning fox-like folk—gathered at tables, sharing stories and enjoying their respite.
Lucian made his way to the bar, an imposing centaur standing behind the polished wooden counter. “Excuse me,” Lucian began, his voice steady despite the thrumming of nerves within him. “Have you seen a pack of Wolfbanes pass through?”
The centaur regarded him with a sidelong glance, golden eyes narrowed, as if weighing his worth. Long seconds passed before the centaur finally spoke, his voice deep and resonant. “Vampires aren’t welcome here, visitor. What business do you have among our kind?”
Lucian swallowed hard, the weight of his nature heavy in the air. “I’m just passing through. A goblet of something, please.” He offered a handful of coins, and the centaur scoffed but complied, pouring crimson liquid into a goblet before shoving it across the counter.
Taking his drink, Lucian chose a shadowed table near the back corner, the ruckus of the crowd fading into a dull roar as he eavesdropped on the lively conversations unfolding around him.
“Didya hear about that big bounty on the rogue goblin king?” a dwarf with a long braid exclaimed to his friends, slapping the table with enthusiasm. “A thousand gold! I plan to spend it on a boat!”
“Nay, it’s not worth it,” said another dwarf, chugging a tankard. “If the stories be true, the goblin’s got a whole army. Better to let a bigger idiot fetch his head.”
The fae dancers laughed, teasing from the stage. “You lot are all talk! We know how to handle our foes, don’t we, m'Lady?” One of the fae winked at her companion, flinging her hair as the crowd erupted in cheers.
“Anyone seen those lycanthropes?” a finx chimed in with a sly grin. “I bet they’re up to no good. Always lurking, always hunting.”
Lucian clenched his jaw, his gaze focused on the entrance when suddenly, the tavern door burst open, and a group of werewolves entered, their powerful frames silhouetted against the dim light. They were larger than the Wolfbanes he'd encountered, muscles rippling beneath their fur. They joined the ruckus, but their voices dropped to hushed whispers, an air of menace radiating from them.
“Something ain't right about the moon’s pull lately,” the largest of the group muttered, scanning the room like a hawk. “I caught wind of something… down in Moonhallow.”
Lucian’s hand trembled around his goblet, recognizing the danger that lurked within those walls. Another werewolf nodded, his intensity palpable as he continued, “Rumors of vampire raiders. Might be they’re at the guild now.”
Suddenly, one of the werewolves caught a scent, his eyes narrowing. “I can smell one nearby!” he growled, baring his fangs. An instant later, he hurled a nearby wooden table aside, the crash sending a chorus of protests through the tavern.
“Hey! What did you—” a dwarf shouted, but the leader of the werewolves advanced, tearing up a floorboard and throwing it without remorse at the centaur behind the bar. “Shut it, hooves! We don’t need your chatter.”
The centaur grunted angrily but fell silent, keeping his eyes trained on the scene. The fae had begun to stir, their graceful forms morphing into sharp-edged intensity as magical energies crackled around them.
“Watch your back, wolf!” one of the fae called, readying her hand, but the tension escalated as the werewolf, now with a scrawny sidclops—half goat, half person—in his grasp, snarled, “Blackbeard, you’re under arrest.”
Lucian’s heart raced as he caught sight of a wanted poster depicting Blackbeard’s likeness plastered to the wall nearby. He swore under his breath, noting how the tavern had fallen into a deathly silence, an unspoken respect given to authority as royal guards from the Pendragon Guild turned up. Lucian felt the weight of their presence, recognition and fear mingling in the air.
The leader of the werewolves faced the guards, his expression a mix of defiance and agitation. “You shouldn’t interfere with our business,” he warned, the growl in his voice echoing ominously. “These bounty hunts are none of your concern.”
Yet, it was the guards who stood resolute, their gazes unyielding. “You know better than to threaten peace in our lands, wolf,” one of them replied, motioning forth as they took Blackbeard into custody. Silence now cradled the atmosphere, every eye watching the unfolding drama play out.
And as tensions flared and tempers ignited, Lucian seized his opportunity. He slipped out the back door, the shadows engulfing him as he vanished into the night, vowing that he would not stop until he found Rylan and unraveled the truth surrounding the devastation of Moonhallow.
With a sense of growing unease, Lucian pushed through the ruins, his eyes scanning for any sign of Rylan. He had to find him; the mere thought of being apart from his friend for any stretch of time felt unbearable. But as the minutes ticked by, and the silence of Moonhallow's ruins weighed on him, Lucian's hope began to falter.
Just as he was about to give up, his ears caught a faint rustling sound amidst the wreckage. He moved toward the noise, his heart quickening as he navigated through the rubble. And that's when he saw him – an elderly figure, wounded and weak, struggling to breathe. Lucian approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the person, but his instincts immediately kicked in to protect this stranger.
However, instead of attacking, the elder looked up at Lucian with a mixture of fear and suspicion. Lucian understood that this person must have heard tales of his kind's brutal nature, the same myths that had kept him hidden away his whole life. He took a step back, hands raised in a calming gesture, to reassure the elder that he meant no harm.
As he drew closer, Lucian could see the elder's fear begin to subside, replaced by a sense of curiosity. He spoke softly, reassuring the elder that he was there to help. "Don't be afraid. I'm Lucian. What's your name?" The elder's eyes searched his face, but eventually, a hint of recognition flashed across his features.
"I...m-my name is...Elwyn," the elder stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lucian nodded understandingly and took Elwyn's frail hand in his. "Elwyn, I need to know if Rylan is here. Is he—?" But before he could finish, Elwyn's eyes fluttered, and his hand slipped from Lucian's grasp.
"No, no, please," Lucian cried, trying to hold Elwyn upright. He gently lowered the elderly figure to the ground and cradled his head in his lap. Elwyn's eyes, filled with a mix of sorrow and gratitude, locked onto Lucian's face.
"Y-you have to...find...find—" Elwyn's voice trailed off, and Lucian felt a cold dread creeping up his spine. Elwyn's eyes went dark, and his chest stopped moving. The elderly figure had passed on.
With heavy sorrow, Lucian gently closed Elwyn's eyes and rose to his feet. He looked for a suitable place to lay the elder to rest, and after a moment of reflection, he decided on a nearby clearing surrounded by a cluster of ancient trees. The moon cast an eerie glow over the area, casting long, ominous shadows across the ground.
As he laid Elwyn's body to rest, Lucian spoke the words of the ancient vampire burial rite, his voice low and somber.
"Earth of the night, receive this soul from the light that once shone. Take his memories, his pain, and his name, and in exchange, grant him peace, rest, and the eternal darkness. May his spirit roam free, untethered and unbound, a whisper in the wind, a shadow upon the wall."
With the words echoing through the air, Lucian gently covered Elwyn's body with the remains of a nearby tarp, a makeshift shroud to protect his friend's mortal remains. As he stood beside the grave, a sense of reverence washed over him, a reminder that even in the darkest times, life and death were intricately woven.
With Elwyn safely buried, Lucian stood up, his eyes scanning the devastated landscape once more. "Where...?" he whispered, hoping that Elwyn had managed to share his final words with him. His thoughts drifted back to the elder's faint utterances, and a spark of hope ignited. He remembered the words "find...in..." but the rest was shrouded in darkness.
With a resolute spirit, Lucian set off into the ruins, determined to find Rylan, no matter what lay ahead. The night air seemed to whisper secrets in his ear, but he pressed onward, driven by his unyielding love for Rylan and his unwavering desire to be reunited with him.
Raven spent the quiet afternoon in his apartment lunging on the couch trying not to over think like what he always did.
“It’s been five years he moved on”
“ but I miss him”
“You don’t know if he loves you still” Raven tried reasoning with himself
“Don’t do it it won’t help” he told himself as he opened pictures of him and Crow they looked so happy
The first picture was on their first date Raven wore heavy eye shadow Crow held him close in the picture. Raven inwardly cringed at the eyeshadow thank god he got out of that phase but each picture brought heart ache he relived each picture the memories played on of the good times lost.
“Maybe if I text him?”
“He probably moved on he’s out west”
Raven said again he got off the couch and padded to the kitchen bustling around but everywhere he looked the memories followed crow loved to cook and show Raven things
Raven opened the fridge his appetite fading He looked down and saw the grey baggy hoodie he wore it was crows his favorite band plastered on the front “citizen soldier”
Raven tried distracting himself by painting his brush gliding across the canvas the blues and purples blended together by the time he was done he blinked away the tears and put a tarp over the painting he did of him and crow
He scrolled through his phone looked at all the blocked numbers 106 messages from mother “3 from his little sister and non from his friends Though he willed against it he read through his conversations with crow the plans and dreams - now shattered the last message was from crow
Jan 4th 2021. 11:35 pm
“Hey babe happy anniversary, Don’t stay up for me I’m not coming home- I think we should break up it’s not you it’s me. I was never really gay I was just doing it for the thrill keep the hoodie.”
Raven went into the bathroom and looked at his tear streaked face though he lived alone old habits died hard he hugged himself and cried his thoughts willing himself to be better yet comforting entertaining the thought of crow hugging him to feel those strong arms around him thinking of the good times that seem faded
Few weeks later
Raven went to the bar to treat himself for his birthday the booming music played loud as patrons danced and swayed to the music heavy alcohol filled the air Raven sat down in a booth ordered a well done steak and some wine he glanced at the happy couples and forced himself not to think about crow then out of a glimpse of his eye he saw crows talk frame across the room Ravens heart fluttered he wanted nothing more to embrace him and get out of this hellish nightmare but also wanted to lash out at him for breaking it off then almost as if a switch he forced himself to look away he started scratching his wrist the hoodie he wore felt suffocating.
Then he noticed crow had a boy with him he was beautiful. And it made ravens heart ache crow was good with lies but it hurt when he was the victim he finished his food then left but not before seeing them kiss his spirit shattered tears pricked his eyes he ran out to the cold parking lot the air hitting him like a bucket of ice water he got into his car and cried As he drove home their favorite song played Raven couldn’t hand the pain he missed his love but didn’t want his heart broke again “would things ever change?” He thought to himself but he knew one thing was certain he would never love someone that much again
“I love him!” Lucian exclaimed, his voice echoing in the dimly lit chamber, raw emotion spilling over. “And I’ll do anything to protect him!” With determination fueling each movement, he carefully packed his blood vials, ensuring their fragile glass would not shatter in the fray of travel. He swung the bag across his body and took a moment to steady himself against the cool stone of his window.
As he perched at the edge of the ledge, the sprawling expanse of Bloodhaven lay before him, a place he had called home but felt increasingly like a cage. He turned to Boris, his eyes filled with sorrow, but also fierce resolve. “I’m sorry, but I can never be the prince you want me to be—I can’t be the king my father was.”
Without waiting for a response, Lucian launched himself into the night. His body morphed, muscles shifting and reforming as he transformed into a bat, his wings unfurling wide and strong. He soared into the cool night air, leaving behind the confines of his old life, wings carrying him toward a destiny fraught with uncertainty.
As he crossed the border, a sense of liberation mingled with the weight of regret. The world beneath him changed rapidly, landscapes shifting from the familiar shadows of Bloodhaven to the unknown expanse that awaited him; Moonhallow. Lucian's heart raced in anticipation, but as he drew closer, dread tightened in his chest.
Moonhallow was in ruins.
The once vibrant enclave, known for its bustling energy and beauty, now lay in shambles, a ghost of its former self. Buildings crumbled into heaps of debris, and the air was thick with an unsettling silence that spoke of despair and loss. Panic surged through him. Had something happened to Rylan? Was he too late?
Lucian landed gently among the rubble, transforming back into his human form. Adrenaline coursed through him as he surveyed the devastation, his heart pounding angrily against his ribcage. Fear clawed at his throat as he remembered the stories of how the shadows had threatened Moonhallow—the very fears that had once kept him tethered to his royal duties.
“Rylan!” he called out, his voice trembling as it echoed against the hollow remnants of the town. He listened for a response, straining to hear anything amidst the overwhelming silence. The devastation was like a weight on his soul, dragging him down, and he took cautious steps through the debris, desperate to find any clue of where his friend might be.
Time seemed to stretch as he navigated through the wreckage, hope mingling with despair. With each corner turned, he envisioned the places they had shared laughter, the spots where secrets were spilled, and the very ground that was now coated with ash and desolation. “Please, let him be safe,” Lucian whispered to the wind, anguished thoughts swirling within him.
But with every passing moment, the reality of the situation began to sink in, gnawing at the edges of his determination. Lucian knew that confronting the aftermath would be only the beginning of a perilous journey—one whose outcomes he could not yet fathom. Yet with the call of his heart echoing in his mind, he pushed forward, ready to face whatever awaited him in the ruins of Moonhallow.
Lucian was upset as he stormed into his chambers, slamming the door behind him. The weight of the conclave's judgment pressed heavily on his shoulders, and the fire of rebellion ignited his spirit. He began to pack, his hands moving frantically as he opened the closet and threw black clothes and cloaks into his travel bag, each piece of fabric a symbol of his heritage that he was willing to abandon.
As he rummaged through the shadows of his room, he noticed a hidden latch on the back of his closet. He pulled it open, revealing a trove of handmade treasures crafted by Rylan—little figurines, tokens of their friendship, and trinkets that whispered memories of laughter, late-night talks, and stolen moments. A pang of nostalgia hit him, stirring a longing for the connection they shared. His heart ached at the thought of severing ties not just with Rylan but also with the life he had known.
He carefully packed the special treasure, salvaging the pieces that could survive the flight that lay ahead. Almost instinctively, he reached for the blood vials that Rylan had gifted him, knowing their importance for survival beyond the border.
Just as Lucian began to close the bag, Boris entered the chambers, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "Lucian, you need to listen to me," he urged, stepping forward in a bid to reach the prince before it was too late. "You cannot protect yourself if you cross that border against the clave's wishes. Please, as an old friend of your father, don’t throw away your family on a slim chance of finding your friend."
Lucian's hands stilled, but only for a moment. “Boris, Rylan is more than a friend!” he declared defiantly, his resolve hardening. The urgency coursing through him was palpable, like a tide rising to meet the shore.
"I understand," Boris replied, his tone softening but still insistent. "But if you go through with this, you’ll be marked as a traitor. You won't be welcomed back. The clave will never forgive you for abandoning your duties, for rejecting your people. I cannot protect you if you follow your heart into danger.”
Lucian felt torn, the weight of his past colliding with the intensity of his longing. He looked at Boris, his friend and bodyguard, the person who had stood by him through countless trials. “I appreciate your loyalty, but I can’t just forget about Rylan. I won’t abandon him now when he needs me most.
Boris stepped back, resignation washing over his features. “Then you must realize the consequences of your actions, Lucian. Should you choose to leave, know that you may be forsaking your family forever. And no amount of love can change that.”
Lucian's heart raced, the conflict within him raging like a tempest. He knew the risks; he understood the stakes. But the thought of remaining in a world that would never accept the love he felt for Rylan felt unbearable. Torn between duty and desire, he took a deep breath, wrestling with the consequences of his choice. Each passing moment felt like a countdown to an irreversible decision.
As Lucian descended into the grand hall of the vampire conclave, the murmurs of the councilors ceased, and all eyes turned to the young prince. His mother, the Queen, sat upon her throne, her expression a mixture of regal elegance and sharp concern. The conclave began to discuss Lucian's punishment for crossing the border, their voices weaving a tapestry of reprimand and censure.
Lucian's defenses rose as the councilors questioned him, their tone dripping with disapproval. He felt like a child being lectured, his actions being scrutinized by those who knew him all too well. The air was heavy with the scent of old blood and worn tradition, making Lucian feel suffocated.
"I don't care about the border!" Lucian lashed out, his words piercing the tension. "They're not a threat! My mother's just scared." The councilors' gazes snapped toward him, and Lucian's mother's eyes flashed with warning, her voice rising in pitch.
"The border was your father's idea to keep us safe," she declared, her words dripping with conviction. "He fought tirelessly to protect our kind, and you're willing to throw it to the wolves like that?"
The queen's tone was laced with a warning, a subtle yet potent reminder of the power that lay within her grasp. Lucian felt a spark of defiance ignite within him, but it was quickly extinguished by the weight of his mother's words.
"A Wolfbane and a vampire can't be together," she said, her voice low and deadly. "They're a threat to our very existence. You know the laws, Lucian. I taught them to you myself."
As she spoke, a cold dread crept up Lucian's spine. He knew the weight of his actions, the potential consequences that lay hidden beneath the surface. His mother's words were like a dagger to the heart, slicing through his very identity.
"You're just scared for me, too," Lucian spat, the anger boiling over. "You're scared I'll choose them over my own kind." He turned to leave, but his mother's voice stopped him.
"Lucian, don't walk away," she called out, her tone firm but trembling. "You need to understand why your actions are so treacherous. You're playing with fire, child."
But Lucian's heart was ablaze, fueled by the flames of his own desires and fears. He stormed out of the conclave, leaving behind the familiar halls of his mother's court, and the stifling expectations that bound him. The darkness swirled around him, a vortex of uncertainty, as he plunged headfirst into the unknown.
In the shadows, Boris watched as Lucian vanished into the night. "The Queen will likely strip him of his title and privileges," whispered Valtor, one of the councilors. "And perhaps even expel him from Bloodhaven altogether." The others nodded in agreement, their faces stern and unyielding.
"I think she'll want more," said another councilor, her voice low and calculating. "A public demonstration of her disapproval would send a strong message to any others who might be tempted to defy her." The room fell silent, the weight of their words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Boris's expression remained grim, his eyes shadowed with concern. He knew that once Lucian chose his path, there would be no turning back.
As Lucian lay on the roof, lost in his thoughts, a scrawny bat with a ragged wing and a missing ear flitted into his view. With a soft rustle, Lucian’s bodyguard, Boris, perched beside him, his feathered form becoming a shadow against the pale moonlight.
"Running from your responsibilities is not solving them, young prince," Boris remarked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration.
Lucian sat up slowly, his disinterest evident as he turned his gaze away from his bodyguard. "You’re not my father, Boris. I don’t need you looking after me," he retorted, frustration bubbling beneath his facade.
"Your father did want you to be safe," Boris continued, his tone firm yet sympathetic. "He wanted you to avoid entanglements that might bring discord to our house—a Wolfbane, no less. And not to mention—" Boris hesitated slightly, the weight of the unspoken words lingering in the cool night air. "A male."
Lucian bristled at the comment, a surge of indignation pushing through him. But before he could voice his protest, Boris pressed on, his gaze unwavering. "But that’s not the point— the vampire conclave wants to see you."
The mention of the conclave caused Lucian's heart to sink. He could already feel the suffocating expectations that came with their summons. Lucian’s mind raced through the implications of their request. The conclave was not just a gathering; it was a council of the most powerful vampires, each with their own agendas. Being called upon could bring scrutiny, especially with his recent actions.
"Fine, I’ll go," Lucian muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The thought of facing the conclave twisted his stomach in knots, yet he knew avoiding it would come with its own consequences. The fear of what they might demand loomed over him like a storm cloud, but he had to assert some control over his life.
"Are you sure, young prince?" Boris questioned, his tone softening. "You don’t have to face them alone. I can accompany you."
"I'll handle it," Lucian asserted, determination edging into his voice. "I need to face this on my own." He took a deep breath, staring out over the valley that surrounded Bloodhaven, gathering his thoughts and emotions.
As he gathered himself, he felt the glint of the ring Rylan had given him, nestled beneath his cloak. "Is there anything else I should prepare for?" Lucian asked, casting a glance back at Boris.
Boris's eyes held a weight of knowledge that Lucian could sense. "They may challenge your choices, but remember, young prince, you have the strength of your lineage behind you. Your father believed in you—so do I."
Lucian nodded, summoning a spark of resolve. He needed to embrace who he was, not just for himself but for Rylan and Celeste too. Rising to his feet, he stared resolutely ahead, determination settling in his chest. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, wiping the remnants of doubt from his mind.
As they prepared to take off, Boris landed on a nearby ledge, his eyes scanning the horizon. "And once we’re done, you should seek out Rylan," he advised quietly. "It’s time to reconcile with your heart and your duties."
Lucian allowed a fleeting smile at the thought of Rylan, warmth flooding through him before the weight of reality pressed down again. “I will.”
With that, the two took to the night sky, the castle fading into the dark below as they embarked toward the unknown—a journey filled with challenges from the vampire conclave, questions of identity, and the hope of rekindling a connection with Rylan that felt like a distant dream.
Back at the border, anger crackled in the air as a furious vampire strode toward Lucian, his eyes blazing with outrage. “What the hell, young prince?!” he barked, his voice sharp as a blade. “You draw your weapon against your own kind? I swore an oath to protect you from danger, not to see you defending dogs!”
Lucian’s heart sank further at the reprimand. He felt the weight of his decisions crashing down on him, the memory of Rylan’s fretting gaze still fresh in his mind. “It was necessary!” Lucian countered, defending his actions not just for himself but for Rylan and Celeste. “They were threatened.”
“Your mother will hear about this,” the vampire hissed, clenching his fists at his sides, as if holding back the urge to physically restrain him.
Without waiting for a response, Lucian pushed past his bodyguard, ignoring the looming threat in those words. He took flight, soaring through the forest, the cool night air brushing against his skin, the trees blurring past him. He didn’t stop until he reached Bloodhaven, a castle that loomed ominously over the valley. Its gothic architecture stood stark against the moonlight, a ring of mountains guarding the city from prying eyes.
With one final effort, Lucian flew into his window, landing softly in his well-decorated room—a sanctuary that felt void of warmth in that moment. Anger pulsed through his veins, and he pounded his fist against the stone wall, the echo of his frustration reverberating through the silence. He was furious not just at the situation but also at himself for allowing it to escalate.
His gaze fell upon the ring that Rylan had given him, gleaming on his desk. Picking it up, Lucian felt a pang of longing for the brief moments they had shared, and the bond that had formed amid the chaos. With a sigh, he quickly slipped the ring onto his finger, feeling the familiar comfort it provided.
Then his hand brushed against something else in his cloak pocket—the crushed remnants of a moon pastry, a reminder of the carefree times they had enjoyed together under the willow tree. He had thought carrying it would bring him closer to Rylan, but now it felt more like a bitter reminder of what he had lost.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Lucian’s bodyguard stood on the other side, his presence a reminder of his obligations and the danger that still lingered. Lucian, feeling the walls of his room close in on him, couldn't bear the thought of being confined any longer.
With an impulsive flick of his wrist, he flew out of the window again, soaring high above the castle. The cool night air enveloped him, calming his turbulent thoughts as he landed softly on the roof. Lying there, he stared up at the star-specked sky, letting the weight of his emotions wash over him. The fear and confusion surrounding Rylan and Celeste churned in his chest, and guilt gnawed at him.
“Why did it have to come to this?” he whispered into the night, hoping the stars would carry his questions into the cosmos as he lay atop the castle, the world below fading away, torn between the duty to his bloodline and the bonds he had formed with those he cherished.
In the stillness, amidst the distant whispers of the wind, Lucian made a silent promise to himself—to seek out Rylan and Celeste again, to understand the choices that lay before him, and to forge a path that honored both his heritage and his growing feelings for the young wolf. Even if it meant bridging a divide that seemed insurmountable, he would not let fear dictate his destiny.