Bride Of The Night

Chapter 2

### **Chapter 2: The King's Blood**

Lana sat in a large, opulent room, her head spinning. The heavy velvet curtains blocked out most of the light, leaving only the soft glow of candlelight to illuminate the space. The air was thick with the scent of burning wax and something sharper, more metallic—something that made her stomach tighten in an unfamiliar way.

She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the strange weight of her new existence. The blood coursing through her veins was not her own anymore. It wasn't human blood. It was... his. Morpheus's.

She had learned quickly from Ian and Emma that her transformation wasn't like the typical "turning" of a vampire. Most vampires were created through the bite of another, but she... She had been *chosen*. Morpheus, the king of vampires, had turned her with his own blood, a rare act that was steeped in ancient vampire tradition. He'd made her his, binding their fates together in a way that was still incomprehensible to her.

As Emma had explained earlier, "His blood is a gift and a curse, Lana. You'll feel the bond between you grow stronger over time. You won't be able to fight it."

"I'm not sure I want to fight it," Lana had whispered back, though she didn't understand why she felt that way.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn't ignore the growing pull she felt toward him. At night, when she closed her eyes, she could see his face—handsome, with sharp features and eyes that glowed an unnatural amber. She'd never met him. Not yet. But she already felt like she knew him in a way that went beyond logic.

"I need to learn," she muttered under her breath as she stood from the chair in the middle of the room. Her mind was racing. She couldn't stay idle; she couldn't just *wait* for things to unfold. She needed answers. And maybe... maybe some control over this chaos.

Ian, sensing her unease, walked into the room. His tall frame filled the doorway, and his presence was like a calm balm to her frayed nerves. His dark eyes were steady, patient. He had been kind to her since she arrived, offering a stability she wasn't sure she could trust just yet. But in the absence of Morpheus, Ian was the closest thing to a guide she had.

"You're restless," Ian observed, his voice low but tinged with a knowing amusement. "How are you feeling?"

Lana ran her hand through her hair again, almost as if she could will away the unease. "I don't know. Everything feels wrong. I can't even explain it. It's like my body is... not mine anymore. Like I'm wearing someone else's skin."

Ian stepped forward, closer than she expected, and placed a cool hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle, but she could feel the weight of his words in his next sentence. "It's not your body that's changed, Lana. It's your essence. Your spirit. Vampires... we don't just change physically. Our souls are transformed too."

His words made the knot in her chest tighten further. "I don't feel like I have a soul anymore."

"You do," Ian replied, his gaze unwavering. "But you're learning to live in a new way. A new world. It takes time, but you'll get used to it."

Lana nodded, though she didn't entirely believe him. Her new senses were both a blessing and a curse. Everything was sharper—her sight, her hearing, even her sense of smell. She could taste the metallic tang of blood on the air, even though there was no blood nearby. She could hear the distant drip of water, the soft scuttling of insects outside the windows. But most of all, she could *feel* Morpheus. His presence was like a weight on her chest, a constant pull from a distance.

"I need to know more about this—about *him*," Lana said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would make it all too real. "About Morpheus."

Ian's expression shifted. For a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, and there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something she couldn't quite place. But he didn't hesitate to speak.

"He is the King of Vampires. An ancient ruler who has lived for centuries. When he chose you, Lana... it wasn't just a random act. You are bound to him in ways that you'll understand only when the time is right. But for now, let us help you control what you can."

She turned away from him, gazing out of the window. The night had fallen, and the streets of the vampire city below were quiet, almost eerily still. But her heart was racing, as though it too was trying to catch up to the new life she'd been thrust into.

"How do I control this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "How do I control *him*?"

Ian was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, but firm. "You control yourself first. And once you've done that, the rest will follow."

---

Later that night, Ian took Lana into the training chambers. The room was a vast, dimly lit space with high, vaulted ceilings. The walls were lined with dark stone, and the air felt heavy, as though it carried centuries of secrets. This was where she would learn the ways of the vampire—how to control her powers, how to fight, how to navigate the dangerous world that was now her reality.

"You're going to learn to control your thirst first," Ian said, his voice steady. "The hunger is the most dangerous part of being newly turned. It can drive you mad if you let it."

Lana nodded, though a flicker of fear twisted in her gut. The hunger she'd felt earlier—when she'd fed on that first human—was still fresh in her mind. It had been overwhelming. Too overwhelming. She didn't know if she was strong enough to control it.

Ian handed her a silver vial filled with crimson liquid. "This will help. It's a controlled feeding. A substitute. Something to help you focus without giving in to the hunger. But you have to drink it slowly, just enough to take the edge off. Understand?"

Lana took the vial, her hand trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. The blood smelled different—familiar and foreign at the same time. She hesitated, and Ian's gaze softened.

"You're not a monster," he said, as if reading her mind. "You're still you. This is just part of the process."

She nodded again, more to herself than to him. Then, with a deep breath, she tipped the vial to her lips and drank.

The moment the blood hit her tongue, something inside her snapped. The craving, the desire for more, flooded through her like a tidal wave. She could feel her fangs sharpening, her body reacting with an intensity that startled her. But she fought it—one small sip, then another, savoring the sweetness, feeling the thirst diminish just enough to breathe.

When she pulled the vial away, her chest was tight, but the hunger had dulled. For now, at least.

Ian smiled slightly. "You're getting the hang of it. Now we move on."

"Move on to what?" Lana asked, her voice still shaky.

"Training your body," Ian said. "The vampire's body is far stronger than a human's. You'll need to learn to control it. You'll learn how to fight, how to defend yourself. And most importantly, how to *endure*."

Lana didn't ask what exactly she was enduring. She was starting to understand that it wasn't just the physical aspect of being a vampire that would be difficult—it was the emotional weight, the unrelenting bond to Morpheus that tugged at her heart.

The dreams of him were growing stronger, more vivid. She could feel his presence even now, his pull irresistible. As if on cue, she felt it again—the unmistakable connection, the almost magnetic force that made her chest ache.

Morpheus was out there. Watching.

And the deeper she went into her training, the more she realized one thing: she wasn't just training to survive this life.

She was training to meet him.

And when she did, everything would change.

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