Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
My hands shook. Finally, I dialed my mother’s number. When the line clicked alive, her voice cracked through the static, frantic and breathless. “Mom.”
“Clara?” My mother’s voice hit like a knife. Raw, hoarse, broken. “Oh my God, Clara, where are you? Are you hurt? We thought—” Her breath hitched. “We thought something terrible had happened.”
Tears blurred my vision instantly. “Mom, no. I’m okay.”
“You’re okay?” Her voice cracked on the word. “You vanished without a word, your phone is off, and the police found your car abandoned near the trailhead. Clara, where are you? Please, just tell me something.”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” My throat tightened until it hurt to breathe. “Please—just listen to me, okay? I’m safe. I promise. I’m… with someone I trust.”
Across the room, Ivan stood near the fire, the flames painting his face in gold and shadow. His expression didn’t change, but the weight of his stare anchored me in place.
“Someone?” she echoed, soft and confused. “Who? Clara, what are you talking about? Are you with Laszlo? He called us and said he gone out to see you, and the two of you spent a little time together, but he hasn’t been able to get a hold of you for days.”
My pulse stumbled. “No, I’m not with Laszlo,” I blurted. “I… met someone new. Things just got complicated. I guess time got away from me. I’ve been overwhelmed with everything. I just needed to step back for a bit.”
There was silence, the kind that felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting for the ground to give way. Then my mother whispered, her voice trembling, “Sweetheart… if someone’s there and you can’t talk freely, just tell me your grandmother’s name. I’ll know. I’ll get help.”
My throat closed, words scraping out raw. “I’m fine. I promise. I love you, Mom,” I said, the truth of it splintering something inside me. “I swear I’m okay. Please, just tell everyone not to worry.”
“I cannot help but worry,” she breathed, and I could hear the quiet hitch of her breath. “You sound… different, honey. Scared. Just come home, Clara. Whatever’s happening, we’ll fix it together.”
“I will,” I lied, my voice barely a whisper. “Soon. But, Mom, listen to me.”
A beat of hesitation, then, “What is it, sweetheart?”
“Laszlo isn’t who you think he is. I broke things off and I don’t want to talk to him again. If he tries to reach out, don’t believe a word he says. Please. Promise me.”
There was a pause so long I thought the line had gone dead. Then, quietly, “Okay. I promise. But, Clara… whatever’s going on, whatever you’re caught in, you can still come home. Nothing is too far gone.”
The lump in my throat nearly strangled me. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, Mom.” There was nothing left to say. I ended the call before the sound of her crying could destroy me.
The phone felt heavier than it should as I set it down. Ivan still hadn’t moved. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but the surrounding air had shifted. It was less menacing now and filled with dark hunger.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. I stood trembling, heart in pieces, caught somewhere between rage, relief, and something I didn’t want to name.
“You’re welcome, Clara.”
I turned toward the window, but his hand caught my wrist. The jolt of it stole my breath. He didn’t squeeze—just held me, his thumb brushing the pulse that thundered beneath my skin. His eyes locked on mine, and for the first time, the hunger in them was unmasked. Not for blood but hunger for me.
“You dream of me,” he said. Not a question. A truth. “You always have. You just didn’t know who I was until now.”
My mouth opened, but no denial spilled out. He was right. I had dreamt of him my entire life. Sometimes just flashes of a shadowed face or of a voice calling my name. Other times, especially since I’d come to Romania, they’d been more intimate… more revealing.
And here in this castle, they’d grown darker. I could feel the ghost of his lips at my throat, the weight of his hands on my bare skin, and the sensation of those sharp teeth breaking skin and sinking deep into my neck.
“I don’t—”
He was in front of me before I could finish, his body a blur of movement that stole the air from the room. Instinct made me hold my breath, and I tipped my chin back as I met his gaze. For an instant, everything felt achingly familiar, like I’d stood in this exact moment before, reaching for him in another time.
A yearning rose inside me, deep and raw. It felt like something that had always lived in my bones waiting to be remembered.
“Ivan.” His name fell from my lips in a whisper, soft and desperate, more plea than anything else.