The knocks were soft.
Three firm, but respectful, knocks echoed on the wooden door.
Elizabeth looked up slowly. Her eyes were still slightly swollen, though she had wiped her face and caught her breath. The room was bathed in low light—dusk was beginning to fall, tinging the sky outside with cool hues.
She took a second to organize her voice. "Co in."
The doorknob turned carefully.
Kael entered.
He was different.
He wasn’t the ard, watchful man who had carried her through the streets as if always ready for battle. Now he wore a light fabric shirt, wider at the shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His trousers were simple, comfortable, nothing that suggested formality or rank. His hair, still slightly disheveled, gave him a more... human appearance.
Less of a commander.
More soone who belonged in that house.
He closed the door behind him gently.
For a brief mont, his eyes scanned the room before landing on her.
"Is everything alright?" The question wasn’t intrusive.
It was direct.
She nodded automatically. "Yes."
But her voice still carried traces of crying.
Kael noticed.
He didn’t comnt.
Instead, his eyes slowly descended to her feet, which were still bare on the soft carpet. The marks were visible—superficial cuts, scratches, purplish bruises beginning to appear beneath her pale skin.
He took a few steps closer.
He crouched down unceremoniously, placing one knee on the floor to get a better look.
"Hm." Elizabeth blinked, surprised by the proximity.
He didn’t touch.
He only examined.
The bruises on her shins.
The scratches on her ankles.
The small cracks in her skin betrayed days of running without proper rest.
He let out a low sigh.
"It’s impressive you’re still standing."
She tilted her head slightly.
"It’s nothing much."
He raised an eyebrow, looking up at her.
"Nothing much?"
She shrugged.
"I’ve been through worse."
The answer ca out simple. Natural.
As if she were talking about rain.
Kael stared at her for a few seconds before standing up again.
"Even so," he said, crossing his arms lightly, "it’s still impressive."
She frowned slightly.
"What?"
"You."
Silence hung for a mont.
"You’re being hunted. You were unjustly accused. You lost soone important. You’re covered in bruises." And yet... — he tilted his head slightly, studying her — you don’t look broken.
Elizabeth held his gaze.
— I’m alive.
— That’s different from being whole.
She didn’t answer imdiately.
Her gaze drifted for a mont to the window, then returned to him.
— Life has never been kind to . — She said without dramatization. — A few bruises aren’t going to kill .
Kael let out a small laugh.
It wasn’t mocking.
It was almost... admiring.
— For soone I found trembling in the middle of the street, you seem pretty strong now.
She blinked.
— I was trembling because I thought you were going to give away.
— Fair enough.
He moved a little closer, stopping at a comfortable distance.
— But still — he continued — you didn’t beg. You didn’t try to manipulate . You didn’t try to run away again when you had the chance.
She crossed her arms slightly, defensive by instinct.
"Run where?"
"There’s always sowhere."
"There’s not always soone."
The answer was lower.
More honest than she intended.
His eyes softened a little.
"You learned to survive on your own."
"It’s always been that way."
Kael tilted his head.
"You don’t seem like soone who’s had an easy life."
She almost laughed.
"You have an impressive ability to perceive the obvious."
He smiled slightly.
"I work with the obvious. What people show when they think no one is looking."
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Elizabeth maintained her upright posture, despite the evident weariness in her shoulders. There was sothing in her that refused to bend completely—not before him, not before anyone.
Kael noticed.
"You know..." he said after a few seconds, "strength isn’t about not feeling pain." She stared at him.
"I know."
"It’s about continuing to feel it."
She took a deep breath.
"So I suppose I’m strong."
He nodded.
"I suppose so."
She looked away for a mont, as if she wasn’t used to hearing that.
Complints were rare.
Recognition, even rarer.
Especially coming from a human.
"I don’t need your pity," she said, with controlled firmness.
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I don’t."
"Then what is it?"
He thought for a second.
"Respect."
The word fell between them like sothing solid.
She hadn’t expected that.
Her fingers lightly tightened on the fabric of her nightgown.
"You’re strangely kind for soone who hunts vampires."
"I don’t hunt vampires."
"You don’t?"
"I hunt trouble."
She tilted her head.
"And I’m trouble?"
He watched her for a long mont.
"I haven’t decided yet."
She almost smiled.
"Fair enough."
Kael uncrossed his arms and took a deep breath.
"I ca to see how you were before..." he made a vague gesture with his hand, "fulfilling my promise."
Her gaze automatically fell to his neck.
Then back to his face.
"Are you really going to do this?"
"Yes."
"Even without knowing ?"
"I know enough."
She remained silent.
"And what do you think you know?"
"That you’re being used as a scapegoat. That soone wants to spread fear. And that you don’t seem like soone who would kill their own mother."
Her heart skipped a beat.
He noticed her reaction.
But he didn’t comnt.
"Besides," he added lightly, "you’re weak. If you continue like this, you won’t even need hunters to finish you off." She made a slight grimace.
"That was almost an insult."
"It was encouragent."
She took a deep breath.
"I’m not as fragile as I seem."
"I never said you were."
He took a step back, giving her space.
"But you don’t need to pretend you’re indestructible either."
Elizabeth stared at him for a few seconds.
Then nodded.
"Thank you."
The word ca out low.
Sincere.
Kael just tilted his head slightly.
"We’ll take care of those wounds later," he said. "Alia will insist on it anyway."
Elizabeth could almost imagine the woman’s stern expression.
"I survived ten years before becoming a vampire with far less care."
"And maybe you don’t need to keep living as if you were still in that ti."
The sentence hit her unexpectedly.
She didn’t answer.
But she didn’t deny it. Kael watched her for another mont.
"For soone who was scared," he said, a slight smile appearing, "you really seem quite strong now."
Elizabeth held his gaze.
"I’ve always been strong."
He nodded.
"I believe you."
Silence returned to their space.
It wasn’t heavy.
It was laden with sothing more... inevitable.
Kael took a deep breath, as if making a simple decision, though he knew it wasn’t.
Then he extended his arm.
He turned his wrist upward.
The veins beca visible beneath his pale skin.
Elizabeth blinked.
"What are you doing?"
He didn’t look away.
"Keeping my promise."
She frowned slightly.
"You don’t need to—"
"I do." His voice was calm, but firm. — Drink quickly, before I change my mind.
There was a slight trace of irony there. But only slight.
Elizabeth stared at his exposed wrist.
She could hear it.
His heart.
Strong.
Stable.
The sound pulsed in the room like a distant drum, but to her it seed too close.
The sll also arrived.
Warm.
Alive.
Human.
She swallowed hard.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely not." He gave a half-smile. "But enough."
She took a deep breath.
"I..." She hesitated for a second. "Excuse ."
Politeness elicited a brief chuckle from him.
"Go ahead."
She approached slowly.
Each step seed heavier than it should be.
Not out of weakness.
But out of awareness.
She didn’t want to be seen as a hungry monster.
Not by him.
Not after the respect he said he felt.
She gently held his arm.
His skin was warm beneath her cold fingers.
Her eyes rose one last ti to his face, as if silently asking for confirmation.
Kael simply held her gaze.
Without fear.
Without retreat.
She tilted her head.
The fangs erged discreetly.
And then—
She bit.
The skin yielded easily.
The taste exploded in her mouth.
Hot.
tallic.
Alive.
His blood was different.
It wasn’t just human.
There was sothing more there.
Sothing dense.
Powerful.
She drank carefully.
A few sips.
Controlled.
It wasn’t uncontrolled hunger.
It was need.
Kael didn’t move.
He didn’t pull his arm away.
He just watched.
The sensation wasn’t exactly pain.
It was pressure.
Heat.
As if sothing was being pulled from inside him.
But what caught her attention most wasn’t that.
It was what happened to her.
The marks on her feet began to disappear.
First the most superficial cuts.
The skin closing as if ti were being reversed.
Then the bruises.
The purplish color lightened.
Vanishing.
Like ink being washed away.
The scratches on her shins vanished.
The small fissures healed.
Even her posture changed.
Her shoulders, previously slightly slumped with fatigue, straightened.
Her breathing beca more steady.
The fingers that gripped his arm gained firmness.
Life.
Kael observed everything with almost scientific attention.
"Interesting..." he murmured.
She moved away soon after.
Her fangs retracted.
She discreetly ran her tongue over her lips, cleaning away any trace.
The wound on his wrist was already beginning to close as well—slower, but still too fast for an ordinary human.
Elizabeth blinked.
She looked at her own feet.
She moved her toes.
It didn’t hurt.
There was no burning.
No heaviness.
She looked up at him.
"I..."
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Because she was whole.
Completely.
As if she hadn’t run, been knocked down, chased.
As if physical fear had never touched her body.
Kael flexed his wrist slightly.
The bite mark was now just a reddish line.
"It’s only a few sips," he said. "And you regenerate like that?"
She nodded slowly.
"Fresh blood speeds up the process."
He tilted his head.
"Good to know."
She stared at him.
"You don’t seem scared."
"Should I be?"
She hesitated.
"Humans usually are."
He shrugged.
"I’ve seen worse."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Worse than a vampire draining your blood?"
"You didn’t drain ."
She was silent for a second.
"I could have."
"But you didn’t."
Their eyes locked.
There was sothing new there.
It wasn’t distrust.
It wasn’t fear.
It was recognition.
He had trusted her.
And she had honored that.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"At least I know my blood isn’t useless."
She almost smiled.
"It isn’t."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Was that a complint?"
"Maybe."
She looked at her own body again, still processing the sensation of being... okay.
Whole.
Without pain.
Without weight.
She had beco so accustod to surviving with injuries that their absence felt strange.
"Thank you," she said, this ti without hesitation.
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