### Chapter 7: Blood Alchemy & The Taste of Midnight
The eclipse moon had slipped behind a veil of cloud when the six of them finally left the roof. The campus was quiet in that deceptive way only magical universities can manage at two in the morning: the lawns looked asleep, but every blade of grass was listening.
Kael's legs felt like wet paper. The bond kept him upright, a low, steady current of Riven's strength flowing through the invisible tether between them. Without it he would have face-planted on the stairs three times already.
Riven noticed—of course he did. He always noticed now.
"You're shaking," he said quietly as they reached the third-floor landing of Emberwing Hall.
"I'm fine."
"You're lying." Riven's hand settled at the small of Kael's back, thumb tracing a slow circle through the fabric of the hoodie. "You gave Lira half your memories tonight. That's not nothing."
Kael stopped walking. The corridor was empty, lit only by floating witch-lights that dimmed respectfully when they sensed exhaustion. He turned, tilting his head up to meet Riven's eyes—crimson in the low light, but softer than they had any right to be.
"I'm not sorry," Kael said. "I'd do it again."
Riven's jaw flexed. For a moment the vampire prince looked almost human—uncertain, protective, terrified. Then the mask slipped back into place.
"Come on," he murmured. "You still have that Blood Alchemy audit at nine. You need at least four hours or Grimshaw will feed you to the leeches."
They reached Kael and Lira's door. Lira herself had peeled off on the second floor with Mira and Jude, claiming "girl talk and possibly arson." Soren had vanished with a grunt that might have been goodnight.
Which left Kael and Riven alone in the corridor.
Kael fumbled for his keycard. The little rune on it flickered weakly—his magic was running on fumes.
Riven took the card from his fingers, swiped it, and pushed the door open. Then he just… stood there.
Kael's heart did something complicated. "You coming in or planning to guard the threshold like a very expensive gargoyle?"
A huff of laughter escaped Riven—rare enough that Kael felt it like a victory.
"I wasn't sure I'd be welcome."
The honesty in his voice cracked something open in Kael's chest.
"You carried me across half the Emberwilds when I passed out," Kael said. "I think we're past knocking."
Riven stepped inside.
The room was dark except for the gentle glow of Lira's leftover potion bottles. Kael's side was still bare—no posters, no photos, just the university-issued bed and a single framed picture he'd salvaged from his Earth backpack: him and his parents at Pike Place Market, age twelve, all three of them sunburned and laughing.
Riven's gaze snagged on the photo immediately.
"You looked happy," he said softly.
"I was." Kael's throat felt raw. "I don't… I don't remember what their voices sound like anymore. Not clearly. I gave too many memories tonight."
Riven crossed the room in two silent strides and cupped Kael's face with cool hands. "Then let me give you new ones."
The kiss wasn't sudden. It had been building for days—weeks, maybe since the first moment their eyes met across the arrival courtyard. But when it happened, it was gentle. Almost reverent.
Riven tasted like winter air and copper and something sweet Kael couldn't name. The bond flared wide open, no walls, no filters. Kael felt Riven's loneliness like a physical weight, centuries of it, and in return Riven saw every quiet fear Kael had never said aloud: that he didn't belong here, that he was a glitch, that one day the veil would drag him back and rip him away from the first place that had ever felt like home.
Riven pulled back just far enough to rest their foreheads together.
"Stay," Kael whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere."
They ended up on Kael's narrow dorm bed, still half-dressed, Riven's coat draped over the chair like a dark wing. Riven lay on his back, Kael curled against his side, head on the vampire's chest. There was no heartbeat—vampires didn't have them—but the bond pulsed in perfect rhythm anyway.
"Tell me something true," Kael said into the quiet.
Riven's fingers carded through his hair. "I've attended this university for six years and never once slept in a dorm bed. They're terrible."
Kael laughed, the sound muffled against Riven's shirt. "Something else."
A pause.
"I was terrified the first time our magic touched," Riven admitted. "Not of the power. Of what it would mean to want someone this much and not be able to walk away."
Kael pressed a kiss over Riven's sternum, right where a heart would have been. "Good thing I'm stubborn."
Riven's arms tightened. "Good thing."
Sleep took Kael slowly, the bond lulling him like a tide. The last thing he felt was Riven's lips brushing his temple and the softest whisper against his skin:
"Sleep, love. I'll keep the shadows away."
#### 8:47 a.m. – Blood Alchemy Auditorium
Kael jolted awake to Lira banging on the door with what sounded like a ladle.
"Rise and shine, lovebirds! We're late and Professor Sanguir will literally drain us if we miss roll call!"
Riven was already up—because of course he was—hair perfect, uniform immaculate, looking like he'd had twelve hours of beauty sleep instead of three on a mattress designed by sadists.
Kael groaned and tried to sit up. His whole body felt like he'd been wrung out and hung to dry.
Riven steadied him with a hand at his waist. "Easy. The bond overextended last night. Drink this." He produced a small vial of something dark and shimmering.
Kael eyed it suspiciously. "Is that blood?"
"Mine," Riven said calmly. "A thimbleful. It'll balance you."
Kael downed it before he could overthink. It tasted like Riven's kiss—winter and copper and want.
Lira burst in without waiting for an invitation. "Oh good, clothes are still on. I owe Mira twenty starcoins." She took one look at Kael's face and softened. "You okay?"
"Getting there." He managed a smile. "Thanks for knocking, by the way."
"Anytime." She tossed him a clean uniform shirt. "Move it. We've got front-row seats to the most awkward class in history."
#### 9:05 a.m. – Blood Alchemy 301 (Audit Section)
Professor Armand Sanguir was exactly what you'd expect from someone whose family tree was 90% vampire: tall, elegant, silver-haired, and radiating the kind of calm authority that made students sit straighter.
He also noticed everything.
"Mr. Voss. Prince Thorne." Sanguir's voice was silk over steel. "How fortunate. We're studying bonded resonance today. You'll be demonstrating."
The auditorium of two hundred advanced students went predator-still.
Kael felt his stomach drop through the floor.
Riven, bastard that he was, simply inclined his head. "Of course, Professor."
They were directed to the central dais, a circle of white marble etched with containment runes. A single silver bowl waited in the center.
Sanguir's instructions were simple: "One drop each. Let the blood reveal the bond's structure. No active magic."
Kael rolled up his sleeve. The eclipse tattoo looked darker today, veins of crimson threading through the black—like Riven's blood had painted permanent pathways under his skin.
Riven went first. A quick slice across his thumb with a ritual dagger (because vampires apparently carried those casually), one perfect drop falling into the bowl.
Kael followed. The moment his blood mingled with Riven's, the bowl ignited.
Not fire—*light*. Black and crimson threads exploded upward, weaving into a double helix that pulsed with their combined heartbeat. The structure grew, branching into fractal patterns that filled the entire dais: shadows forming constellations, blood tracing lunar phases. At the center, where the strands intertwined most densely, a tiny phoenix of blue flame flickered—Lira's gift from last night, now part of them too.
The auditorium was dead silent.
Sanguir's eyebrows had climbed into his hairline. "Fascinating. A triune resonance. I've read theories, never seen proof." He turned to the class. "Note the stability. Most bonds fracture under scrutiny. This one… sings."
Kael felt his face burn. Riven's hand found his under the table's edge, fingers lacing tight.
A fourth-year in the back row raised a trembling hand. "Professor… is it supposed to look like they're soul-married?"
Sanguir's smile was slow and sharp. "My dear, I believe the correct term is *eclipse-bound*. And yes. It rather does."
The class dissolved into whispers.
Riven leaned close enough that only Kael could hear. "Told you I had plans."
Kael elbowed him, but couldn't hide his smile.
#### 11:30 a.m. – The Aftermath
They escaped the auditorium only to be swarmed by students wanting selfies, bond readings, and one bold succubus who offered to "test the resonance personally."
Riven's growl sent half of them scattering.
Lira met them in the corridor, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with unholy glee. "So. Soul-married. That's a new record."
"Shut up," Kael muttered.
"Make me, husband-in-law."
Riven slung an arm around Kael's shoulders, steering him away. "We have Lunar Combat practice in twenty minutes. And after that, dinner. Somewhere private."
Lira called after them, "Use protection! Bonded babies are a nightmare!"
Kael flipped her off without looking back.
Riven's laughter rumbled against his side, low and warm.
For the first time since dying in a Seattle alley, Kael felt something dangerously close to peace.
The term had barely started.
They had months of this ahead—classes, training, cult threats, and the slow, inevitable fall into whatever came after soul-married.
He couldn't wait.
**To be continued…**