This continued for a moment longer—Zyren’s silence, Aira’s defiance—until finally, he moved. A single step forward, then another, until his entire body was flush with hers. She could feel the brush of his clothing, the coolness of his skin, the quiet promise of domination that lingered in his breath.
"I’m not sure you understand what belonging to me means," he said, voice low and biting. Then, without pause, he lowered his head—too close, too sudden—and Aira realized far too late that he intended to kiss her.
She moved to pull back, to flinch away like she always did. But this time, she froze. Her breath stilled in her throat. She felt his lips press firmly on hers—not harsh, not demanding, but claiming. It was a simple kiss, one that demanded nothing in return, and when he pulled away the very next moment, he didn’t gloat. He only looked directly into her eyes.
"Okay," he said simply.
The word struck her harder than the kiss. She blinked. Aira hadn’t expected agreement—certainly not so quickly. Zyren was always dominant, always controlling. That he would agree at all, even to something so small as her status, made her suspicious.
"...I will announce it," he continued, "but it would still depend on you whether or not you can ensure that vampires treat you equally."
Then, as though the conversation was over, he turned and walked forward—pulling her behind him by the hand, her wrist gripped lightly but firmly in his fingers. His pace was smooth and unhurried, but Aria had no doubt there was a specific destination in his mind.
She followed him, heart pounding louder than ever before. Her steps were quick, but her legs felt heavy, burdened by a mixture of dread and curiosity. Her eyes flicked up to the walls, to the shifting guards who made way, and to the hallway she had only been down once or twice before.
"Is this about the ritual?" she asked, her voice breathy, but urgent. Her fingers clenched lightly at the inside of her coat as she looked around, heart thudding against her ribs.
Zyren didn’t answer. Not with words.
He walked directly into a chamber—no knocking, no announcing himself—and Aira nearly tripped trying to keep up with him. She watched as a woman with red eyes, clearly aged in appearance but still powerful, rose slowly from her chair.
A vampire. And yet, clearly ancient—older than any Aira had ever seen. Her skin was like dried parchment, her eyes sharp despite the deep lines that lined her face.
Zyren barely spared her a glance. "The ritual. Can you do it now?" he asked. His voice boomed with command, cold and sharp enough to make Aira’s lungs seize.
The older vampire, Savira, bowed deeply.
"The preparations are underway," she said, her voice respectful, careful. "To ensure that everything goes well, it’s better to be more prepared."
Aira didn’t miss the tremble in her voice—the caution in the way she spoke as though she was trying to warn Zyren, but softly, as though worried she’d be silenced.
But before Zyren could speak again, Aira’s voice broke through.
"Is this... is this ritual dangerous?" she asked.
It was the first time she truly asked aloud—not just to Zyren but to someone who might actually tell her the truth. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm, her chest tight as her gaze fixed on the old vampire woman.
Zyren mentioned powers. That was all she had to go on.
Savira lowered her head further. Her grip tightened around the staff she held, but she didn’t meet Zyren’s eyes. Not once. When she finally answered, it was with the tone of someone trying to offer reassurance that was half-truth and half warning.
"Yes, of course! You will get an ability," she said slowly. Her voice carried a rhythmic tone, almost hypnotic, like the spoken wisdom of someone too old to waste time with questions. Her nods were steady, practiced. Aira, despite everything, felt the faintest flicker of belief take root in her chest. A sliver of hope.
Still, the question that had plagued her since the moment the ritual was mentioned rose again.
"I will be bonded to him... but he will also be bonded to me, right?" Aira asked.
She wasn’t pleading—she needed to know. The thought of being even more subservient to Zyren than she already was made her chest tighten until it hurt. If the bond only chained her to him, without chaining him back in return, it would be too much.
Savira was silent. A moment too long.
Aira’s fists clenched again.
Because if the power didn’t come with equality... if the ritual only made her more sub-servant to him against her will then what was the use.
’I would serve him even with my new ability!’ she thought to herself with a bitter expression on her face as she faced Savira, the old vampire who continued to lower her head but whom Aira could swear wasn’t the least bit weak.
’If so...then I would rather be weak!’ Aira thought to herself as she waited for a response while Savira had her own thoughts.
’Do I look like I have time to care about the effects of a ritual I myself i’m not fully aware of what the benefits are?’ Savira thought to herself aware that there was a lot she didn’t know and even if she did, the only one she would care about was the one she swore her loyalty to.
Her gaze said as much as she raised her head and met Aira’s gaze as she slowly spoke the words Aira wanted to hear even though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was the truths
"It’s a bonding ritual! There’s no way it would be one-sided!’ Savira said even as she met Zyren’s gaze almost like she was searching for a reaction of displeasure towards her words only to find none there.
"How soon can it be done?" Zyren asked and Savira did not hesitate to respond.
"Tomorrow! Midnight tomorrow!" she said her voice filled with such conviction it might as well have been a promise.