Bride Of The Night

Chapter 19

### **Chapter 19: Shadows of the Past**

Lana stood in front of the grand window, the cool night air drifting in through the cracked panes. Below her, the sprawling estate stretched out like a living, breathing thing—lush gardens, long, winding paths, and the distant outline of the forest that marked the edge of their territory. The moon was full tonight, its pale light casting shadows across the grounds, just as the darkness lingered inside her own heart.

She still felt the pull of the bond to Morpheus, a constant undercurrent that tugged at her senses, reminding her that she was never truly alone. He was with her, inside her, whether she wanted him there or not. The hunger, too, had grown stronger. Sometimes it whispered in the back of her mind, coaxing her to feed, to give in to the need. But more often now, it was the pull of power she couldn't quite grasp—the hunger to *control* that gnawed at her.

The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. Ian and Emma had given her space to process, but Lana knew it wasn't just the power inside her that she needed to come to terms with. There was something else—something darker—that had been calling to her.

A sound echoed from behind her, light footsteps, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible breath. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Morpheus," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the chaos that churned within her.

He was there, standing in the shadows of the doorway, his presence as commanding as ever. She could feel him, like a weight in the air, a tangible force. The world seemed to narrow, to draw in around them until it was just the two of them, caught in this strange, unyielding connection.

He didn't speak immediately, but the air seemed to thrum with his power. Then, he stepped into the room, his dark eyes never leaving her face. The tension in the air thickened, and Lana's pulse quickened despite herself.

"I didn't think I would find you here," he said, his voice low, almost amused.

Lana took a slow breath, keeping her back to him for a moment longer. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face him yet—if she was ready to feel the weight of that bond, to feel the darkness of his presence close to hers.

"You're always here," she muttered, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her voice. "I can't escape you."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. "You never could. Not really."

Lana's fingers clenched at her sides. It was as if he had become a part of her, a dark shadow that clung to her no matter how far she ran.

"You know," Morpheus continued, stepping closer until she could feel the heat of his presence behind her, "the bond between us isn't just something I can turn on and off, Lana. It's not a thing to be dismissed, to be ignored. You may not want me here, but I'm here because *you* are the key to something much bigger than either of us."

She turned slowly, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind racing. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that she didn't want any part of his world, his schemes, his darkness. But the words got caught in her throat.

His eyes were darker now, molten, like black pools that pulled her in with a force she couldn't explain. "You've felt it, haven't you?" His voice was a dark caress, each word a promise. "The power. It's growing within you. And you're beginning to understand what it means to be *bound* to me."

Lana's breath caught. The truth was undeniable—every moment that passed, she could feel it, that strange, intoxicating power slowly unfurling inside her. But she wasn't sure if it was her own or if it belonged to him, or if it was some twisted combination of the two.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, the question slipping from her lips before she could stop it. "Why did you turn me?"

Morpheus studied her for a long moment, his gaze intense, inscrutable. "You were never meant to be a mere victim of fate, Lana. You were chosen because you have the strength to wield the power that comes with this bloodline. I knew you would be... special."

Lana's stomach twisted. *Special*. The word felt hollow, cold, as if it meant something darker than she was willing to admit. "So, I'm just... your pawn in some grand game?"

He tilted his head, as though considering her words. "You were never a pawn. You *are* the game."

Her blood ran cold at his words. The weight of them crushed her chest, like a stone lodged in her ribs. He wasn't just turning her into a weapon—he was *using* her. She was part of some larger, unknown design.

"I don't want this," she whispered, the words coming out with a force she didn't know she had. "I don't want to be your tool, Morpheus. I didn't ask for this."

He smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was the smile of someone who had already won, already known the answer to the question before it was asked. "It doesn't matter if you want it or not. What matters is whether you can control it."

Lana clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. The hunger swirled within her, a constant, gnawing ache. She could feel it now more than ever—this dark power, this thirst that wasn't just for blood, but for domination. For control.

"And if I can't?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

He took a step closer, his presence enveloping her like a dark cloud. "Then you will lose yourself, Lana. The bond will consume you, and you will become nothing but a shadow. A puppet."

Lana shook her head, the words cutting through her like ice. She couldn't—she wouldn't let herself be controlled like that. The thought of giving in to him, of becoming nothing but an extension of his will, made her want to scream. But she didn't.

Instead, she took a step back, her eyes narrowing. "Then I'll fight it. I'll fight you. I'll find a way to be *my own*."

Morpheus's expression darkened, the amusement gone. His eyes flashed with something dangerous, something that felt like a storm ready to break. "You cannot escape what you are, Lana. The more you resist, the stronger the bond becomes. You think you can fight me, but you cannot fight *yourself*."

"I *will*," she said, her voice steady despite the fear that clung to her insides. "I'll control this power, and I'll make my own choice. I won't be your puppet."

He studied her for a long time, his gaze hardening, as if weighing her words. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with a silent tension. Then, he finally spoke.

"We'll see, won't we?" His voice was a low, soft threat, like the calm before a storm.

And with that, he was gone, his presence vanishing from the room like smoke in the wind.

Lana stood there for a long time, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling from his words. The hunger still twisted inside her, but now, there was something else—a quiet fire. A spark of defiance.

She would *not* be his puppet.

Not now. Not ever.

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