A heart of the vampire

Chapter 5

When Serena awoke the nextevening, a strange warmth greeted her. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the soft, flickering light in the room. Her heart skipped as she realized that the fireplace, cold and empty the night before, was now lit. The gentle crackling of the flames filled the otherwise silent space, casting a warm, orange glow that danced along the walls.

She sat up slowly, her body stiff from the restless sleep, and glanced around. It didn't take long for her to notice something else—several paper bags were neatly arranged by the foot of her bed, their tops folded over with the careful precision of someone who didn't leave things to chance. Her heart raced slightly. Someone had been in her room while she slept.

Serena's mind spun with questions. Had it been Lucian? The thought sent a shiver through her, though she wasn't sure if it was from fear or something else entirely. The fire and the bags... it wasn't exactly the cold indifference she had come to expect from him. But still, there was an uneasy feeling in her chest. Lucian's presence, whether he showed warmth or not, always felt dangerous, like something lurking just beneath the surface.

She threw the covers off and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet touching the cool floor. Tentatively, she reached for the nearest bag, pulling it open with trembling hands. Inside, she found clothes. Dresses, blouses, and skirts, each one elegant in its simplicity—nothing like the intricate, delicate garments she had found in Amara's wardrobe. These were for her.

As she sifted through the clothing, she couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty. *Was this supposed to be an offering?* she thought. A way to make up for his coldness the night before? Or was this just another sign of control, a reminder that he was watching her, always aware of her needs, even when she didn't ask?

Serena stood, picking up a soft sweater from the bag. She held it against herself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and resentment. She had asked for clothes, and now here they were, as if Lucian had anticipated her every thought. But the fire, the silent intrusion—it made her feel watched, vulnerable. Was this supposed to be some kind of kindness, or was it his way of showing that she was now part of his world, completely under his control?

Her fingers trailed up to her neck, brushing against the bite mark that still ached with a dull, constant throb. The bite, the bond... she still didn't understand it fully, but she knew she wasn't free. Lucian had bound her to him, in more ways than one.

Serena walked over to the window, her eyes catching the frost clinging to the glass. Outside, the evening was cold and grey, the landscape of Lucian's world stark and foreboding. She hugged the sweater to her chest, staring at the lifeless grounds below, and wondered what the day would bring.

The feeling of grime on her skin reminded her of the night before—wandering through the woods, the tomb, the bite. She felt filthy, and her clothes, still the same ones she had worn when she ventured into the forest, were a tattered, dirty reminder of that ordeal.

Looking around the room, she noticed a small, half-open door near the corner. Her curiosity piqued, she got up and walked over to it, pushing the door open to reveal a bathroom—a surprisingly elegant one. She left fluffy sweater in bag. The dark marble floor gleamed under the light, and the large, claw-footed tub sat next to a glass-walled shower. It felt strange to see something so luxurious in this ancient mansion.

Relieved, Serena quickly undressed, peeling away her muddy, torn clothes and leaving them in a pile by the door. The thought of putting them back on later made her stomach turn, but the bags by the bed offered some hope for something fresh.

She stepped into the shower, the hot water hitting her skin like a wave of relief. She closed her eyes, letting the steam rise around her as she scrubbed away the remnants of the forest and the tomb, trying to wash away not just the dirt but the unsettling memories of the night before. The water felt cleansing, almost purifying, as though it could rinse away the confusion and fear that still lingered in her mind.