The scent of herbs and silver smoke lingered in the air.
Sky woke to the quiet hum of the city below, his mind fogged and his body heavy. For a moment, he couldn't place where he was — soft sheets, cold air, the faint trace of something ancient in the room.
Then the pain hit him — dull, pulsing through his chest, the mark over his heart glowing faintly under the bandages.
He blinked hard. The penthouse.
The Supreme.
A voice cut through his haze.
"If you ever scare me like that again, I'm hexing your boots to walk you off a cliff."
Felix sat beside the bed, eyes shadowed from exhaustion, hair a wild mess. A tray of half-empty potion bottles and herbs lay scattered across the table.
Sky groaned, shifting slightly. "You stayed here?"
Felix snorted. "Of course I stayed. You think I'd leave you alone in Dracula's lair?"
He sighed, voice softening. "You almost died, Sky. Again. And this time—" He hesitated, glancing toward the faint marks still glowing under Sky's skin. "This time, I don't think your secret's much of a secret anymore."
Sky's heart stumbled. "He saw the mark?"
Felix nodded grimly. "You bled right in his arms. If he didn't know before, he knows now."
Sky rubbed his temple, wincing. The pulse of the mark beneath his chest throbbed in response — not painful, but alive, aware.
"Perfect," he muttered. "The last person I wanted to know."
Felix studied him quietly, then said, "He didn't hurt you. That counts for something, right?"
Sky looked away, jaw tightening. "No. But he could. That's worse."
Felix opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a low vibration hummed through the floor — faint, almost imperceptible.
Sky's mark flared once, then stilled.
Far above the sleeping city, in the upper chamber of the penthouse, the Supreme Vampire stood before the vast glass wall overlooking the skyline.
---
The night stretched long and silent. William stood at the edge of the room, a sealed crystal vial resting in his gloved hand — inside, a drop of shimmering silver venom pulsed like liquid light.
"This is unlike anything I've seen," he said. "It's not pure witchcraft or alchemy. The strands of magic feel… spliced. Like someone merged forbidden crafts."
Nani's gaze stayed on the horizon. "Someone is trying to wake the old wars."
William's voice lowered. "The wolf packs are already moving. The Alpha from the Eastern Ridge called a summit. And some of the younger clans… they're whispering about vengeance. The Vampire Council is preparing their own strike."
"Their fear is predictable," Nani murmured. "But fear breeds foolishness."
He turned then, the light catching the pale edge of his throat where faint traces of Sky's magic still lingered — silver glows hidden beneath his collar.
"Whoever created that creature wasn't testing their power," he continued. "They were sending a message."
William's expression darkened. "To you?"
"To us," Nani corrected softly. "The Blood and the Moon. The curse is awake again."
William hesitated, studying his master's face. "You're certain it's him? The last Guardian?"
Nani's golden eyes flicked toward him — a glint of knowing light.
"I've seen the mark. I felt it answer mine. There's no mistake."
A beat of silence passed, heavy with meaning.
Finally, William asked, "What do you intend to do?"
Nani turned back to the window, hands clasped loosely behind his back. The city lights reflected in his eyes like distant stars.
"For now, he stays close. Protected."
William tilted his head. "Protected… or contained?"
Nani's expression didn't change, but the faintest curve touched his mouth — not quite a smile. "Both."
He stepped forward, the weight of his presence filling the room. "Assign Gawin and Billkin to him. Discreetly. He'll think they're part of the rotation. But I want his every step shadowed."
William inclined his head. "Understood."
"And William," Nani added quietly, "not a word of his bloodline to the Council. If they find out the Guardian still breathes, they'll tear the world apart to claim him."
William gave a short nod. "As you command, my Lord."
When he was gone, Nani stood alone again — the faint hum of Sky's heartbeat still echoing somewhere below him. He should have felt wary, perhaps disgusted. Instead, he felt the pull again — something old, binding, inevitable.
He exhaled slowly, whispering into the still air,
"You were meant to be my end… not my weakness."
---
The night had settled deep into the city — a velvet darkness pulsing with soft light.
Somewhere below, traffic murmured and faded into distance. Above, the moon hung full and silver, pouring light through the vast glass wall of the penthouse.
Sky stood there, motionless. Barefoot. His shirt unbuttoned halfway, exposing the pale curve of his throat and the faint shimmer of the mark over his heart — now calm, but alive, like an ember waiting to breathe.
He hadn't noticed when the door opened.
Only the subtle shift in the air told him he wasn't alone.
The scent came first — ancient, cold, and faintly sweet, like rain over marble.
Then the voice.
"You shouldn't be standing yet."
Nani's tone was soft but carried weight — a command wrapped in velvet.
Sky didn't turn. His reflection in the glass caught the Supreme Vampire's silhouette behind him: tall, still, every line precise. The faintest glint of gold shimmered in those eyes.
"I heal fast," Sky replied, quiet but edged. "Part of the curse of being hard to kill."
Nani stepped closer, his movements soundless. The faint echo of his presence pressed against Sky's senses — power old enough to shape air itself.
"You're lucky to be alive," he said. "That venom would have ended most wolves. It should have ended you."
Sky's jaw tightened. "Guess I'm stubborn."
Nani's gaze lowered to the glowing mark on Sky's chest, the symbol thrumming with the faint pulse of magic. The air between them shifted — charged, magnetic.
"That mark," he murmured, "has not been seen in centuries. It belongs to legends and ghosts."
Sky turned then, slowly, eyes catching the moonlight. "Maybe I'm both."
For a long moment, they just looked.
No words, just the hum of something older than either of them wanted to name.
Nani took another step forward — close enough for the silver glow to brush against his own skin. The energy crackled softly where they stood, blood and moonlight colliding, binding.
"You shouldn't let your guard down," he said, voice low. "Not even here."
Sky's lips curved faintly, a ghost of a smile. "You mean, not around you?"
A pause.
Then, quietly — "Especially around me."
The admission hung between them, fragile and dangerous.
Sky's breath caught. He wanted to hate this man — this ancient predator — but standing there, caught in that golden gaze, his pulse betrayed him.
The moonlight haloed Nani's features, softening the edges of his cold perfection.
For the first time, Sky realized how young he looked. Or maybe how timeless.
Nani's gaze drifted briefly to the window, then back to him. "The moon favors you tonight," he said, almost wistfully. "It remembers its Guardian."
Sky blinked, thrown off. "You talk like you knew it personally."
"I did," Nani murmured, eyes distant. "Once."
Something in his voice made Sky's heart stumble — grief, maybe. Or memory.
Nani stepped closer still, until there was barely an arm's length between them.
The faint scent of iron and roses clung to him, ancient and intoxicating.
His hand lifted — slowly, deliberately — and brushed a strand of hair from Sky's face. His touch was cool, almost reverent, as though he wasn't touching a man at all, but a piece of fate he'd lost long ago.
Sky didn't move. Couldn't. His breath hitched, pulse thrumming against the glowing mark.
"You shouldn't…" he started, voice hoarse.
"Shouldn't what?" Nani asked softly.
"Touch me like that."
Nani's smile was faint, haunted. "You think I have a choice?"
Their eyes met again — fire and dusk, moonlight and blood.
Outside, the wind shifted. The moonlight brightened, catching the faint shimmer of both their marks through fabric and skin. The air around them thrummed with the echo of the curse: the Blood and the Moon drawn together once more.
For a heartbeat, they simply stood there — caught between centuries and silence.
Then Nani's voice, softer than it had ever been:
"You burn too brightly for someone meant to be my enemy."
Sky looked away, his chest tightening. "And you're too human for someone who's supposed to be my nightmare."
The faintest smile ghosted across Nani's lips — fleeting, dangerous.
The tension between them hung heavy, unbroken.
Then, quietly, he turned toward the door.
"Rest, Guardian. The world will come for you soon enough."
Sky's fingers twitched — as if to stop him — but the words never came.
When the door closed, the silence that followed was deafening.
He stared out at the moon again, the mark over his heart pulsing in rhythm with another heartbeat — one that was not his own.