𝘚𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘺.

Twenty four.

As Akira fed, her senses sharpened, her vampire nature awakening fully with each passing moment. Her once-muted instincts were now roaring to life, and the spell that bound her to Amara and Nara was weakening, splintering with every ounce of power she reclaimed.

Meanwhile, across town, Amara felt a shiver crawl up her spine, a strange, unsettling feeling she couldn't shake. She stopped in her tracks, her mind racing with an unexplainable sense of dread.

Nara noticed her friend's tense expression. "What's wrong, Amara?" she asked, her tone tinged with concern.

Amara frowned, her eyes distant as she tried to focus on the strange feeling tugging at her heart. "It's Akira," she murmured, her voice barely audible. Something in her chest twisted at the thought, and for the first time, her worry wasn't just about control or the spell—it was genuine.

Nara raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"I... I think something's happening to her." Amara's voice was laced with uncertainty, her usual confidence nowhere to be seen. She paused, her eyes narrowing as her concern deepened. "We need to check on her. Now."

Nara looked at her in surprise; Amara had rarely shown such urgency or softness before. "Are you sure? I thought..." She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence. I thought she was just under a spell, something we controlled...

But it was clear that, for Amara, things had changed. Her gaze was fixed, her mind filled with images of Akira, of the time they had spent together. In her heart, she knew this wasn't just the spell anymore. She had been falling for Akira—genuinely, deeply—and the idea of losing her felt unbearable.

"Let's go," Amara said firmly, grabbing Nara's arm.

As they made their way to find Akira, the worry etched on Amara's face told a story even Nara hadn't anticipated.

Akira lay quietly on the bed, her breathing steady but shallow. Rowan, Renetta, and the guys had ensured she looked undisturbed, as if she'd never left the dorm. The dim light in the room cast long shadows, and everything felt strangely still, as though time itself was holding its breath.

When Amara and Nara entered, Amara's gaze immediately went to Akira, her face softening with a hint of worry that she rarely allowed herself to show. She sat beside Akira, watching her with an intensity that Nara couldn't ignore. Amara brushed a strand of hair from Akira's face, her fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. There was a vulnerability in her expression, a glimpse of real affection that even she hadn't fully admitted to herself.

Nara stood nearby, observing Amara's reaction with a mixture of frustration and sadness. She crossed her arms, trying to swallow down the hurt that was beginning to gnaw at her. She had been by Amara's side for years, loyal and devoted, yet she'd never seen her act this way toward anyone before.

As the silence stretched on, Nara finally spoke, her voice edged with tension. "Amara... you're really worried about her, aren't you?"

Amara barely looked up, her attention still fixed on Akira. "I... I just need to make sure she's alright," she murmured, almost as if she were speaking to herself. Her fingers lightly traced Akira's hand, lost in her own thoughts.

Nara's jaw clenched as she struggled to keep her feelings in check. "Do you even realize how I feel? How long I've... cared about you?"

Amara finally looked up, taken aback by the raw emotion in Nara's voice. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself at a loss for words. This was a side of Nara she'd never seen before—a side she hadn't fully considered. The unspoken tension that had always simmered beneath the surface was finally surfacing, and she felt the weight of it press down on her.

"Nara, I didn't..." Amara began, her voice wavering.

Nara took a deep breath, her gaze hardening. "You didn't know because you were too busy with your games, with controlling people. But Akira... she's different to you, isn't she?"

Amara looked away, her silence confirming everything Nara feared. In that moment, Nara knew that her place in Amara's heart was nothing compared to what Akira now held, even if Amara hadn't fully admitted it to herself.

Without another word, Nara turned and walked to the door, leaving Amara alone beside Akira, lost in her conflicted feelings.

Amara hadn't fully grasped how Nara felt about her, but her worry for Akira consumed her thoughts. There was an undeniable shift in her heart, something she hadn't planned or even wanted to acknowledge, but now it was too strong to ignore.

As she brushed her fingers along Akira's hair, her fingertips tingled with the trace of something unusual—a fresh scar along Akira's arm where her blood had been drawn, a faint but unmistakable wound. She held a lock of Akira's hair between her fingers, sensing the slight unevenness where someone had snipped a piece away. In a flash, a vision struck her: hands delicately cutting a strand of Akira's hair, though the face of the person remained hidden in shadow.

A chill crept up Amara's spine as the pieces began to fall into place. Whoever had taken Akira's blood and hair hadn't done it without reason. These were key ingredients for a spell or ritual, something powerful enough to change Akira in ways Amara had only read about in ancient vampire lore.

Her heart sank as a terrifying thought occurred to her: Someone was trying to unlock Akira's vampire side. And if they succeeded, she would become far more than a mere pawn in anyone's game. Amara's attachment to Akira had grown beyond control, and the idea of anyone manipulating her or awakening her powers without her knowledge filled her with rage.

"Nara," she whispered under her breath, glancing toward the door where her friend had just left. She knew she couldn't do this alone, not without risking Akira's life and perhaps her own. But could she trust Nara now, knowing the pain she'd unintentionally caused her?

The clock was ticking, and whoever had started this ritual was one step closer to awakening Akira's true potential. Amara clenched her fists, her mind racing. Whoever's doing this... they're not going to get away with it.