Waking up this time felt different. Not slow or heavy, but sharp, like I had been pulled out of something too deep to understand. My eyes opened suddenly, my breath catching as the room came into focus—the ceiling, the soft light, the unfamiliar space. Then I saw him.
Cyris.
He was right there, closer than I remembered. My heart didn't just beat—it pulled, like something inside me recognized him before I could think.
"What… what is this?" My voice came out dry.
His head lifted immediately, his eyes locking onto mine—one blue, one gold. I froze. "…Your eyes," I whispered.
For a brief second, something flickered across his expression before it settled. "You're awake," he said, like that was all that mattered.
But it wasn't. Not to me.
The moment I tried to move, I felt it—a pull in my chest. Not pain, but something stronger. Something binding. I inhaled sharply, my hand rising to my neck, and the second my fingers touched it, everything shifted.
The mark.
I could feel it.
And then—images, emotions, something not mine flooded through me.
I looked at him instantly. "What did you do to me?"
Silence stretched between us before he spoke. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that."
"That doesn't answer anything," I said, my voice tightening. "Why can I feel you?"
He went still.
My chest tightened again, stronger this time, and suddenly I felt it—his restraint, his control, something powerful being held back. It scared me.
"I can hear it," I said softly.
His gaze sharpened. "What do you hear?"
"…You."
The word barely left my lips, but it changed everything.
The air shifted. Heavy. Real.
"I didn't choose this," I added quietly.
Something in his expression changed, just slightly. "Neither did I," he replied.
That answer caught me off guard. For the first time, he didn't sound fully in control.
I pushed myself up slowly despite the weakness still in my body, but the closer I got, the stronger the pull became, tightening between us like something was forcing the distance closed.
"What is this?" I asked again, more firmly.
"A bond," he said.
I shook my head immediately. "No. This is more than that."
Because I could feel it—his emotions, steady but restrained, layered with something deeper. And I knew, somehow, he could feel mine too.
"I can feel you," I whispered.
"And I can feel you," he replied.
"That's not normal."
"No," he agreed.
Silence settled again, heavier this time, until a memory hit me suddenly—the kiss. My eyes widened slightly. "…I didn't mean to—"
"You were weak," he cut in.
That didn't make it better.
"And the bite?" I asked.
This time, he didn't answer immediately. We both knew that wasn't an accident.
My fingers returned to my neck, brushing over the mark as it burned faintly beneath my touch. "What did that mean?"
His voice dropped when he finally spoke. "It means you're bound to me."
The words settled heavily, final and impossible to ignore.
"You didn't ask me," I said.
A pause.
"No," he admitted.
At least he didn't lie.
The room fell silent again, but this time it wasn't just tension. It was something else—something unfamiliar, something that made it harder to breathe. Because no matter how much I tried to deny it, I could still feel him. Clear. Constant. Unavoidable.
And somehow, a part of me didn't want that feeling to disappear.
That scared me more than anything else.