She asked him a question, but all she got in response was complete and absolute silence.
The silence stretched.
It was sharp. Heavy. Intentional.
Aria’s brows drew together, a deep frown etching across her face as her eyes fixed on him. He had heard her—of that she was certain. Yet he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t so much as flinch.
He just stared.
Right at her.
And the fact that he was doing it so calmly, without even pretending to consider her words, made her blood boil. Her chest rose sharply with the force of her irritation. A different kind of fire lit behind her eyes.
She didn’t look away.
She was incensed that he was acting like this again—calm, detached, controlled—like she wasn’t even worthy of a real answer.
"If you’re not going to tell ," she began, her voice rising with force, "then tell this... what will I have to do to get it?"
She wasn’t here to play gas or wait for riddles to unravel themselves.
If there was sothing—anything—that could give her even the smallest flicker of power, even the tiniest taste of control, then she wanted it.
No—she needed it.
Even if she had to give an arm, Aria knew she was willing to do it.
That need burned through her—so deep and all-consuming that when Zyren finally opened his mouth, the words that left it almost knocked her back physically.
"All you have to do," he said, voice smooth, sharp, and emotionless, "is go through a bonding ceremony with ."
Her world tilted.
For a mont, Aria felt like soone had taken a hamr and slamd it directly against her skull. The sound of her own breath rushing into her lungs was the only thing she could hear. She blinked, dazed, as a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her.
The floor felt too far beneath her. The walls too close.
’What?’
The words repeated in her head, over and over again, echoing louder each ti.
A bonding ceremony?
She lifted her gaze slowly, searching his expression for so kind of clue. So twist of the mouth, so flicker of his eyes that would suggest he was joking.
Nothing.
There was no trace of amusent. No sarcasm. Just complete seriousness—steady and unflinching.
She finally forced the words out through her tightening throat.
"A bonding ceremony?" she repeated, barely able to keep her voice level. Her teeth clenched together with the effort.
But then—she saw it.
A flicker of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Faint. Subtle. But unmistakably there.
She narrowed her eyes.
The smirk wasn’t wide enough to say he was mocking her—but it wasn’t kind either. It was the kind of expression that said he knew exactly how insane what he’d just said sounded to her.
"You’re a vampire, not a werewolf," Aria pointed out, her voice clipped, sharper now. "You don’t bond with people."
The words felt like common sense—like facts she had learned long ago. Things that didn’t require explanation.
"You don’t bond with people!" she repeated again with emphasis, in case his brain had sohow skipped over that basic fact.
Zyren didn’t flinch. His reply was calm, and it ca far too easily.
"You’re right. I don’t bond with people."
Her chest tightened.
"But I can bond with you," he added. "You’re not just anyone. You’re a heatblood."
The word made her stomach twist.
Heatblood.
She’d heard it before—from him—and done her best to uncover its aning. She had pored through whatever scraps of information she could find, but most of it was fragnted and vague. She hadn’t gotten far.
Now, standing in front of him with that word on his lips again, it hit differently.
"You don’t need the details," he continued. "You can bond with . And in exchange, you’ll receive an ability."
His voice remained steady—neutral—but that only made her chest burn hotter with questions.
Before she could open her mouth to protest or demand more, he cut her off with a light shake of his head, continuing in the sa even tone.
"Until the ritual is over, there’s no way to find out what ability you might have."
That only made her frown deepen.
No specifics. No guarantees. Just an offer wrapped in secrecy and steeped in risk.
Her gaze stayed locked on him, her jaw clenched tight as she struggled to push through the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her head. She had a lot to say—but everything tangled in her throat like a knot.
Finally, she managed to find the words.
"My sister is a heatblood," she said firmly, sharply. "You can make the sa proposal to her."
Liora.
Liora would agree. She knew she would. Especially if it ant gaining power.
Aria’s voice was tense, but steady—challenging. She’d noticed it, how he hadn’t ntioned Liora at all. Not once. It was like her sister didn’t exist.
Zyren’s answer ca quickly.
"She might be. But she hasn’t awakened yet."
There was no hesitation in his tone.
"Moreover, I prefer you," he added.
The honesty in his voice was unnerving.
For a second—just a flicker—Aria thought maybe, maybe, she was special. That there was sothing more behind his choice.
But that thought evaporated the mont she really looked at him.
Zyren was a vampire. A predator who had likely lived for at least a century—if not more. He looked young, but Aria knew better.
He was old. Dangerous.
He drank blood. Killed without remorse. He had murdered her father and her brother, and didn’t even blink when he spoke of it.
His clothing was always black. Always elegant. But always dark. His soul, if he had one, was probably blacker.
So black it should’ve been buried in the deepest parts of the earth.
Her eyes stayed locked on him, her expression unreadable, but her rage quietly brewing.
And then, finally, she opened her mouth.
"NO," she said sharply. "I refuse."
Her voice was like a whip. Unyielding. Fierce.
Her heart skipped.
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