Bride Of The Night

Chapter 14

### **Chapter 14: The Darkening**

Lana awoke to the soft murmur of voices in the distance. It was still dark outside—the kind of deep, velvet darkness that only came with the witching hour. The hunger pulsed through her, a constant companion. It was like a low hum beneath her skin, always there, always calling to her. But tonight, there was something more. Something that had shifted. Something deeper, darker.

She sat up in bed, the soft sheets rustling around her as she stretched. The room was cold, the fireplace having burned itself out hours ago. She didn't mind. She had grown used to the chill, the stillness that seemed to cling to her now, like a second skin. But tonight, the silence felt different. Heavier. The air was thick with something unsaid.

Lana stood and moved to the window, her fingers brushing the velvet curtains aside. The moon hung low, casting a pale glow across the rolling hills that stretched out beyond the mansion grounds. She could hear the wind whispering through the trees, but there was something else. Something that made her skin prickle with unease.

The hunger stirred inside her again, but it wasn't the usual ache. This time, it was sharp, urgent. The sensation was so strong it almost felt physical. She could feel the pull—the call. It wasn't just the animalistic thirst for blood. It was more than that. It was *something else*. Something ancient, something primal.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked out into the darkness. She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew it wasn't good. A shiver ran down her spine as she turned away from the window, instinctively reaching for the dagger she had taken to wearing at her side. She had started to train herself with weapons—more for her own peace of mind than anything else. The idea of being vulnerable to something out there, unknown, made her skin crawl.

As she walked through the quiet hallways of the mansion, her senses heightened. Every creak of the floor beneath her feet, every distant murmur of conversation, felt magnified. The bond with Morpheus—the connection between them—had deepened since their last encounter. She couldn't explain it, but it was as if the pull between them was becoming more intense. His influence, too, had grown sharper in her mind, like a jagged edge pressing against her thoughts.

Lana rounded the corner to the grand foyer and found Ian standing near the door, his posture tense as he stared out into the night. Emma was nowhere to be seen.

"Ian?" Lana called softly, stepping into the room.

He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression unreadable. There was something in his eyes, something that made her pause, unsure whether she should approach or retreat.

"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked, her voice low but steady. The hunger gnawed at her, but it wasn't just that—it was the weight of the air itself. There was something waiting. Something wrong.

Ian didn't answer immediately, instead casting one more glance at the door before stepping toward her. His gaze was intense, but his voice was calm. "I think it's time we talked. All of us."

Lana's heart skipped a beat. The last time Ian had said that, it had been about the truth of her transformation—the night he told her she wasn't truly *turned* by him and Emma but by someone far more dangerous: Morpheus.

"Where's Emma?" she asked, a knot forming in her stomach. Something about Ian's seriousness made her uneasy.

"She's not far." Ian's voice dropped lower, and there was a finality to it that made Lana's skin crawl. "But I think you should know something before we proceed."

Lana stiffened, her body reacting to the tension in the air. "What's going on?"

Ian hesitated for a moment, his gaze darkening as he took a step closer. "The pull you're feeling... it's Morpheus. He's getting closer."

Lana's breath hitched. She had known, somehow, that this wasn't just her transformation. It was him, somehow always lingering just beyond her reach, pulling her toward him. It was that connection—the bond he had created when he turned her.

"He's coming here?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

Ian nodded gravely. "Not just coming. He's been watching. And I think it's time you meet him again. You have to face him, Lana."

A chill ran through her, and the hunger inside her stirred like a beast waking from a deep slumber. She wanted to run, wanted to bury herself in the safety of her room, away from the reality of what Ian was saying. But she knew she couldn't. Not anymore. The weight of the situation pressed against her, and no matter how much she tried to fight it, there was no escaping what she had become.

"I don't want to see him," Lana said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be his pawn."

Ian placed a hand gently on her shoulder, his grip surprisingly warm despite the tension radiating from him. "You don't have a choice, Lana. Not anymore. Morpheus has marked you. He's tied to you in ways that go beyond blood. If you're going to have any hope of controlling your own fate, you need to face him. Face what you've become."

Lana's stomach twisted, and she couldn't stop the words from escaping her lips. "What if I can't control it? What if I'm just another monster?"

Ian's eyes softened, though there was still a flicker of fear in his gaze. "You are not a monster, Lana. You are stronger than you think. But you have to choose. Control it, or let it control you."

Lana looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him, to believe that she wasn't destined to become just another puppet in Morpheus's game. But the weight of the bond—the connection that seemed to pulse beneath her skin—was growing stronger. The more she resisted, the more it *called* to her.

Suddenly, Emma appeared at the top of the stairs, her pale form illuminated by the soft light from the chandelier. Her eyes locked onto Lana, and for a moment, the older woman seemed to hesitate. But then she descended gracefully, her footsteps light but purposeful.

"Lana," Emma said, her voice soft, yet steady. "It's time."

Lana turned to Ian, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "What do you mean? Time for what?"

Ian stepped aside, gesturing toward Emma. "Time for you to confront what you're becoming. It's not just about resisting hunger, or even about controlling it. It's about embracing it fully. You need to know what you're capable of, Lana. You can't fight it forever. Morpheus will make sure of that."

Lana's mind spun. The idea of *embracing* the hunger—of fully becoming what she was meant to be—sounded so terrifying, so alien. But deep down, a part of her knew that it was the only way forward. She couldn't keep fighting herself forever. Not with Morpheus always lingering, waiting for her to fall.

"I'm ready," she said, the words heavy on her tongue, though she wasn't entirely sure she believed them. But she had no other choice. If she was going to survive this, if she was going to maintain her humanity—or whatever was left of it—she had to face the truth of who she was becoming.

Emma nodded, her expression unreadable. "Come then. It's time."

And so, Lana followed them both into the night.

---