••{RHIANNON'S POV}••
I sit in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. My hands rest limply on my lap, but my reflection looks tense, like she's waiting to be dragged somewhere.
I still feel the sour burn in my throat from earlier, and every time my mind drifts back to that table—to the sound of knives cutting into raw hearts. The blood. The way it spilled down their chins. The way the hearts looked on those plates, fresh and red—stomach twists and I slap a hand over my mouth, terrified I'll start retching again.
I thought I was getting used to them. Not in a way that makes sense, but in that awful, numb way where being trapped becomes normal.
They talk like humans. They breathe, smile, laugh, argue—just like we do. They look human. Sometimes too human. And somewhere along the way, I let that soften my guard. I let myself look at them without remembering what they are underneath all of that.
But tonight… tonight tore the veil right off
That dinner reminded me that they're monsters.
The kind who sit at a table and eat hearts like delicacies. The kind who drink blood like wine. And for a moment, while I watched them, all I could think was… is that going to be me?
If they find out what I am… what my blood can do… will they carve me open like that? Will my heart end up on a plate? Will my blood sit in crystal glasses, passed around like some luxury vintage?
A cold shiver runs down my spine
I grip the edges of the chair until my knuckles burn. I wish I could stop imagining it, but the images won't leave.
Azrael says I'm safe here, but at this moment, I feel nothing but safe.
I'm terrified.
I hear a soft click and the doors open.
I turn immediately, my heart racing.
Azeria enters the room.
••{AZERIA'S POV}••
Rhiannon jolts up from the chair the moment I step inside, her body stiff as a cornered animal.
She backs away from me like I'm something poisonous.
I can see the look of fear, and revulsion on her face. It's the same one I've seen on humans all my life, but on her… it feels different.
I gesture to the maids waiting outside.
"Come in," I call, and they slip in quietly, carrying a tray with her dinner. They bow, waiting for instructions, but I don't want them here.
"I'll take it," I say.
The moment the tray is in my hands, I dismiss them. "Leave us."
They slip out quietly, closing the door behind them.
I carry the tray to her bed and set it on the far side. Then I sit.
"Come sit," I tell her gently.
She doesn't move.
I exhale softly, trying to ease the tension in my voice.
"It's alright, Rhiannon. I know you're afraid, but I would never hurt you. I swear it."
She hesitates—long enough that I start to wonder if she'll refuse me altogether—but eventually she walks toward me. Her steps are slow, and cautious as if she's approaching a wild beast.
She sits beside me, the tray resting between us like a fragile border neither of us wants to cross.
"Azrael said you haven't eaten in days," I murmur. "Please… eat something."
She lifts the tray into her lap. Her hands tremble slightly as she takes her first bite. I watch in silence as she begins to eat, slowly but steadily.
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
I already like her far more than I expected to. Maybe it's the fire in her, or the way she hasn't broken despite everything.
Still… the way she looked at us at dinner. I don't blame her… but it stung me a bit.
A quiet moment stretches between us. Then I say it. The question that's been sitting in my chest since I walked in.
"You think we're monsters, don't you?" I ask quietly.
She stops and meets my eyes—but she doesn't answer.
That silence is answer enough.
We sit together like that for a while. Her, eating. Me, watching. The ache in my chest growing.
"When you look at me…" she begins, her eyes on her food, "what do you see?"
"A person," I say without hesitation.
"I don't see you as my next meal," I continue softly. "Or something to satisfy my hunger. I see someone who's hurting. Someone terrified and grieving, but still trying to stand her ground."
Rhiannon finally turns to face me.
"I see someone worth respecting," I say.
Her throat bobs.
"If you were in my place," I say, "and the only way you could survive another day was to feed on humans… you would. Anyone would."
"So there's nothing else vampires can eat?" she asks quietly.
I reach over, pinch off a small piece of her bread, put it in my mouth, and chew. It tastes like dust as always.
"We can eat everything humans do," I explain. "But it gives us nothing. No strength. No satisfaction. No taste."
She nods slowly. "I understand."
I shift closer, unable to help it. "I'm really glad I got to meet you, Rhiannon. I had to beg Azrael until he let me bring your food myself."
She lifts her gaze. "Thank you, I appreciate it."
I give her a soft smile. "I have to admit… I really like you."
She looks almost surprised. "Why?"
"Your boldness," I say. "Your sharp tongue. And the way you talked back to my mother at dinner? She's going to be fuming about that for the next century."
Rhiannon lets out a small laugh. It's the first one I've heard from her. It's soft… but real.
"I didn't mean to say that," she mutters. "I was already in a bad mood, and she just… pushed me."
"I understand," I say.
Her gaze drops to her lap. "If you really understand… you'd help me escape."
Her head lifts, and her eyes meet mine—pleading in a way that pulls hard at something in my chest
"Please. Let me go home," she whispers.
For a heartbeat, I almost want to say yes. But I can't.
Not to this.
"I'm sorry," I say. "But if there's one thing I know about Azrael… it's that he doesn't act without reason. I don't know why he brought you here. But I know he has a purpose. A good one."
Rhiannon goes quiet again.
I reach out and cup her cheek, letting my thumb brush lightly along her skin. "Eat up, alright?"
I stand, smoothing my dress as I walk toward the door. My hand touches the handle, pushing it open when her voice stops me.
"Azeria?"
I turn.
"Thank you again… for tonight."
A soft warmth spreads in my chest. "You're welcome."
Then I leave her room, closing the door behind me.