Chapter 392: Turned
Savira stepped out with Zyren behind her, shutting the door firmly behind him before he began to speak.
"Is there anything that can be done to make her ability automatically kick in?" Zyren asked.
Savira instantly shook her head, her expression tight, to show that there was nothing.
She opened her mouth to speak, only to pause.
A sound came from inside the room.
It sounded like a cough, but there was something wrong about it—wet, heavy, choking.
That was enough to make Zyren immediately push the door open again to check on Aria.
He wasn’t surprised to see her awake and coughing.
She was choking on her own blood.
The two of them dashed inside at once, wary expressions on their faces as they hurried to Aria’s side.
She looked very much like she was about to die.
Her face was scrunched up in pain as blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, her entire body spasming violently against the bed.
Savira still felt like she could convince her.
She leaned over, tapping lightly but urgently against Aria’s chest.
"Lady Aria, release your ability! You can always kill yourself later!" she said in a panic, her voice shaking.
There was no doubt in her mind that if Aria died, she would be the next to follow.
It didn’t help that apart from the panic visible in Zyren’s eyes, he had yet to say a word.
Savira kept tapping Aria, trying desperately to get her to respond, when she finally heard Zyren speak.
The words sent a jolt straight through her heart.
"Go," Zyren ordered. "...get the runic knife and silver."
Savira barely got a second to process it before she dashed away to obey.
She returned just as quickly—and the moment she did, she realized why.
Instead of trying to convince Aria to heal herself, he had been waiting.
He had already made up his mind.
He was going to turn her.
Turning a human into a vampire was forbidden.
So forbidden that those who did it were killed on sight. It was considered a corruption of the blood.
Worse, it could create a new faction—one that might eventually turn against their makers. In the past, killing your maker had been impossible.
Now it wasn’t.
After the first incident, no one had been willing to risk it again.
Especially since any human turned had the potential to become just as powerful as the one who made them.
Wordlessly, Zyren took the knife and the silver.
Then he climbed over Aria.
Savira watched as Aria’s heartbeat slowed, weaker and weaker.
And just when it seemed like it was about to stop—
He bit harshly into her neck, drawing her life’s blood even as he plunged the runic knife straight into her heart.
With his sharp fingers, he sliced open the vein in his own arm.
Pulling back, he forced her mouth open and fed her his blood.
The amount that flowed out of him was enormous, dark and thick, running over her lips and down her throat.
Savira watched, her own heart no longer racing in panic but beating slow and heavy.
At that point, she no longer cared.
Her eyes were red and cold.
All she knew was that the ritual would either fail or succeed.
Either way, everyone would have to bear the consequences.
She wasn’t sure it was a good thing for another person to have Zyren’s blood flowing inside them.
Especially since it wasn’t only his vampire bloodline they would have to worry about.
With nothing else to do, Savira stepped back and waited, doing nothing but watching silently.
Every now and then, her gaze drifted toward the window behind the heavy curtains.
There was no trace of sunlight.
Night had long since fallen.
The first thing she felt was heaviness.
It pressed down on every single bone in her body, like something enormous weighed on her, holding her in place.
Yet her first instinct wasn’t to push it away.
Because whatever was pressing against her—
She could feel its heartbeat.
Inside her head.
Steady.
Strong.
Almost as if they shared a single heart.
Who am I? she wondered as she struggled to open her eyes.
Even that felt difficult.
But after a long effort, her eyelids finally lifted.
Her eyes fluttered open to reveal a room that was both familiar and strangely distant.
She looked around in confusion.
Trying to remember anything was even harder than opening her eyes.
But the moment her gaze landed on the naked man lying beside her, memories began to surface.
And as they settled—
Shock followed.
Aria had been prepared to die.
She had even forced it to happen.
The fact that she was alive—and worse, completely healthy, without pain—stunned her.
Annoyed her.
Confused her.
How had Zyren managed it?
She tried to reach for the anger that had driven her to kill herself.
It wasn’t there.
That, more than anything, unsettled her.
Another thing surprised her.
Although the room was completely dark, the heavy curtains blocking all light, her vision was perfectly clear.
It might as well have been daytime.
She could see every detail.
Every shadow.
Every line.
"We both know you’re awake," she finally said, her voice hoarse and scratchy, like she hadn’t spoken in months.
She lifted a hand to her throat and frowned.
Her nails were longer.
Darker.
Sharper.
But before she could focus on them, the naked Zyren beside her stirred.
He raised his head and looked directly at her.
His familiar red eyes were filled with immense relief.
Almost as if he hadn’t been certain she would wake up.
"You look good," he murmured under his breath.
He leaned closer, reaching out to pull her toward him.
Aria’s first instinct was to jerk away.
But she paused.
Because the moment their skin touched, a sudden wave of pleasure shot through her body.
Their eyes met.
And in that instant, they both understood.
It was lust.
Pure.
Raw.
Immediate.
It only became worse when Zyren shifted closer, his naked thigh brushing against hers.
That was when she realized—
She was completely naked too.
He reached out again, sliding his hand slowly along her thigh.
Aria didn’t slap his arm away.
But her voice came out sharp with annoyance.
"No."
Then she looked at him, curiosity rising despite herself, and asked with quiet intensity—
