Chapter 64:Monster

Killian froze mid-step. His head tilted slightly, sharp features shadowed in the dim light as he tuned out the world around him. The silence pressed in, heavy and oppressive, as though the air itself held its breath.

His eyes narrowed, faintly glowing as they traced movements invisible to most. Walls dissolved in his vision, peeling away like layers of skin until the world became a skeletal blueprint. He caught it then—the faint, rhythmic thrum of a heartbeat. Not ordinary. This one pulsed with power. Magic.

A low, guttural chuckle rumbled in his chest. His fangs slid down, sharp and gleaming like blades catching the faint torchlight. A cold smile crept across his face.

He flexed his neck, the sharp crack of bone cutting through the silence. The sound was grotesque yet satisfying—a promise of violence waiting to be unleashed.

"Found you," he murmured, his voice a velvet thread laced with menace.

The tension within him uncoiled. His gaze locked onto a point far beyond the crumbling stone walls, drawn by an unseen force.

In a blur, Killian moved, faster than a whisper through the suffocating halls of the underground prison. Torchlight stretched into streaks of orange as he passed, the metallic tang of damp stone rushing to meet him. Chains rattled in his wake, and the very walls seemed to shudder at his presence.

He ignored the decay, the stale air, and the faint cries of prisoners too broken to hope. His focus was singular, fixed on the pulse of magic that called to him—a thread pulling him deeper into the labyrinth.

Each stride devoured entire hallways in an instant. The world twisted into a blur of iron bars, flickering light, and shadowed despair. When he veered sharply, the stone cracked underfoot, his movements slicing through the silence like a blade.

Without warning, Killian stopped. His inhuman sprint ended with chilling precision, his body utterly still save for the measured rise and fall of his chest.

Before him loomed a massive iron door, blackened and corroded with age. Faintly, it pulsed with the same magic he'd been tracking.

Killian's smile vanished. His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating, as he tilted his head to listen closely to the heartbeat beyond the door.

Straightening, he eased the tension in his shoulders with another bone-snapping crack. His fingers flexed, claws glinting faintly in the dim light. When his smile returned, it was sharper—hungry and devoid of mercy

---

Beyond the enchanted door,Selene stood by the window, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The moonlight painted her figure in pale silver, highlighting the tension in her rigid frame. Her back was turned to Eleanor, but her rage was palpable.

"You came for him," Selene said finally, her voice low, trembling with fury. "After everything he did to us... to them. You still came for him."

Eleanor, seated in a high-backed chair, regarded her daughter with an unnerving calm. Her eyes, followed Selene's every movement. "You don't understand—"

"Don't dare tell me I don't understand!" Selene spun around, her eyes blazing. "I watched him slaughter our coven when I was a child . I heard their screams, smelled the blood. He didn't spare anyone. Not even the elders and he made the children watch,saying it would make them stronger." Her voice broke, but she steadied herself, her glare sharp enough to cut. "And yet, here you are, running to him like nothing else matters. Like I don't matter."

Eleanor's lips tightened, but she didn't respond immediately.

Selene took a step closer, her voice thick with accusation. "All my life, all I ever wanted was for you to love me. To see me as something more than a mistake. But no. It's always been him, hasn't it? Alaric. The great, perfect love of your life." Her words dripped with venom. "You've loved him more than you've ever loved me. You've always loved him more."

Eleanor's expression hardened, her composure cracking just slightly. "You're being ridiculous, Selene."

"Am I?" Selene shot back, her laugh sharp and bitter. "You've spent centuries mourning him, pining for him, chasing after him like some pathetic ghost of who you used to be. And what about me? The daughter you didn't want, the burden you've barely tolerated? Was I ever even enough to make you forget him? Even for a moment?"

Eleanor rose to her feet, her calm demeanor gone. "Do you think this is easy for me? Loving you was never supposed to happen. You were a consequence, Selene. An act forced upon by the very same coven you mourn.You're a consequence of my mistakes!"

The words hit Selene like a physical blow, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. Her lips parted, but no sound came.

Eleanor pressed on, her voice rising. "I gave up everything for Alaric, and when he left, all I had was you. You, with your defiance and your arrogance. You drove him away, Selene. Don't you see that?"

Selene's shock turned into raw, unfiltered rage. "I drove him away?" she hissed, her voice trembling with disbelief. "He murdered our family! He betrayed you! And somehow, this is my fault?" She stepped closer, her presence towering, overwhelming. "No, Mother. He left because he never loved you. Not the way you love him. And you can't stand it, can you? So you blame me, because it's easier than admitting that you've been clinging to a man who never cared about anyone but himself."

Eleanor's eyes flashed with anger, but there was a flicker of something else, something she couldn't hide fast enough: doubt.

Selene's voice softened, though the bitterness remained. "Do you know what it's like, watching the person who's supposed to protect you, care for you, choose someone else over and over again? Someone who destroyed everything we had? Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Eleanor looked away, unable to meet her daughter's eyes.

"I loved you," Selene whispered, her voice breaking. "Even when you made me feel like I was nothing. Even when you looked at me like I was a mistake you regretted. I still loved you. But you…" She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes but refusing to fall. "You'll never love me as much as you love him, will you?"

Eleanor's silence was answer enough.

Selene let out a shaky breath, stepping back as if the distance would protect her from the ache in her chest. "You came here for him," she said quietly, almost to herself. "Even after everything he's done. You still choose him."

Eleanor finally spoke, her voice soft but sharp. "I came here because I had no choice. Because you, with your recklessness and impulsiveness, have ensured that he'll never look at me the same way again. You ruined everything, Selene."

Selene's laugh was cold and hollow. "You think I ruined everything?" She took another step back, her expression hardening. "No, Mother. You did. The moment you let a monster like him into your heart, you destroyed us both."

Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but Selene was already turning away, her hands trembling as she fought to keep her composure.

Selene stood silent for a moment, her mother's figure igniting a storm of resentment and fury. Selene's voice cut through the air, cold and unyielding.

"This is the last time you'll see him."

Eleanor stopped.Her face pale and taut. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," Selene said, stepping forward with deliberate precision. Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through bone. "You won't see him again. I won't allow it. He's taken enough from us, and I won't let you throw away what little we have left for a man who doesn't even care if you live or die."

Eleanor's composure shattered, and the full weight of Selene's words crashed down on her. Her lips trembled as she took a step closer to her daughter. "You don't understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I… I can't keep going like this. Do you think I want to live this way? Feeding off of dark magic, relying on it to keep us alive, to keep us young? Do you think I find joy in this—this existence?"

Selene's face twisted in disgust, her eyes narrowing. "You chose this existence. You chose it over me, over everything. Don't stand there and act like some tragic victim. You've always been willing to sacrifice everything—everyone—for your selfish desires."

Eleanor shook her head, tears streaking down her face. "I made those sacrifices for you, Selene. I did it so we could survive! So you could have a future!"

Selene let out a bitter laugh, her magic beginning to ripple around her in a faint, glowing aura. "Don't you dare lie to me," she spat. "You didn't do it for me. You did it for him. You wanted to stay alive, stay young, so you could cling to the pathetic hope that Alaric would love you again. And now, when he doesn't, you stand here and tell me you'd rather be dead?"

Eleanor's voice rose in desperation. "If he doesn't love me anymore, what's the point, Selene? What's the point of any of this?!"

Something in Selene snapped. Her hand shot up, and a violent force rippled through the room. Eleanor gasped as an invisible grip closed around her throat, lifting her slightly off the ground.

"If you want to die so badly," Selene growled, her voice trembling with fury, "then die!"

Eleanor clawed at her neck, her face turning red as the air was ripped from her lungs. She thrashed weakly, her eyes wide with shock and pain. But Selene's grip didn't falter.

"You want to blame me for your misery? For your failures?" Selene hissed, her magic crackling dangerously around her. "Then let me end it for you. Let me do you the favor of giving you the death you so desperately crave!"

Eleanor's hands flailed, her strength ebbing away. Her lips moved as though she were trying to speak, but no sound came out.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, Selene let her go. Eleanor crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, her body trembling violently.

Selene stared down at her mother, her expression cold and unfeeling. "In the end, you're weak," she said, her voice quiet but dripping with disdain. "You always have been. Weak people are cowards when it comes to death. That's why you didn't run from me just now. Because you know I'm the only one who can keep us alive."

Eleanor coughed, her breathing ragged, but she managed to lift her head to meet Selene's gaze. Her eyes were filled with something between fear and heartbreak.

Selene crouched down, leaning close to her mother's face. "You need me, Eleanor," she said, her tone low and venomous. "You've always needed me. Because without me, you'd be nothing. And you know it."

Eleanor sat on the cold floor, her breath ragged and tears streaming down her face. She looked up at Selene, her voice trembling. "What are you going to do with him, Selene? Keep him locked up forever?"

Selene's lips curled into a sinister smile, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "No, Mother," she said, her tone eerily calm. "Not just locked up. He'll endure pain for the rest of his immortal life. Pain so profound it will become his only companion." She began to pace slowly, as if savoring the thought. "And when Dr.Halloran finally succumbs, when he breaks entirely, another will take his place. And the cycle will begin again. And again. And again."

Eleanor's sobs grew louder, her hands trembling as she reached out toward her daughter. "Selene… you can't mean that. You can't!"

Selene turned to face her, her expression cold and unyielding. "Oh, but I do. When I'm done, Mother, I will stand on top of the world, with Alaric by my side. I will have power beyond anything you—or any mortal—could dream of. The supernatural will bow before me. I'll be more than just a ruler." She leaned down slightly, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "I'll be a god."

Eleanor's cries turned into anguished wails, her body shaking violently. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer, her voice barely audible through her sobs. "Selene, please… please don't do this. Alaric doesn't deserve this. No one does."

Selene laughed, a sharp and cruel sound that echoed through the room like a knife slicing through flesh. "Deserve? Oh, Mother, you're so naive. Do you think he gave our coven mercy when he slaughtered them? When he betrayed us? He deserves every ounce of torment I will inflict on him, and more."

Eleanor's face twisted in despair, her tears blurring her vision as she whispered, "And what about when you die? What then? What happens to your grand plans, Selene? What happens to him?"

For a moment, Selene stilled, her smile fading. Her gaze turned cold, calculating. "When I die…" she said slowly, her voice almost contemplative. "I don't know when, but it doesn't matter. I've already ensured someone will take my place. Someone strong enough to bear my power and continue what I've started."

Eleanor's head snapped up, her voice rising in panic. "Who? Who would you curse with such a burden?"

Selene tilted her head, her expression hardening. "That doesn't concern you."

Eleanor crawled forward on her knees, clutching at Selene's dress as if trying to reach her daughter through sheer force of will. "Selene, don't do this. Please, I'm begging you. Spare him. Spare yourself. You don't have to live like this, consumed by hatred and vengeance. It will destroy you."

But Selene only stepped back, pulling herself free from Eleanor's grasp. Her laughter returned, soft and bitter. "You think I haven't seen our fate, Mother? Both of our fates? I have. And it isn't pretty." She crouched down to meet Eleanor's gaze, her expression filled with grim satisfaction. "One day, we will both die. You and I, together. But until that day comes… I'll carve my name into this world and make it mine."

Eleanor broke into fresh sobs, her voice hoarse and broken. "You're lost, Selene. So far gone, I can't reach you anymore. But I still love you. I'll always love you, no matter what you do."

Selene's eyes flickered for a moment, a shadow of something—regret, perhaps—passing through them. But it was gone as quickly as it came. She stood, turning her back on her mother.

"The world will remember me. But you, Mother… you'll remember that this is all your faul—."

Selene suddenly froze mid-sentence, the air in the room shifting so suddenly that even the faint crackle of magic surrounding her flickered and dimmed. Her words caught in her throat, her lips parting as a voice rang out, smooth and laced with mockery.

"Now, now," the voice drawled. "That's no way to talk to your mother."

Her entire body stiffened, and for the first time in centuries, a cold wave of fear surged through her. The blood drained from her face as the magic she had so carefully cultivated faltered entirely. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, clutching at her chest, gasping for air. She clawed at her throat as though invisible hands had gripped her, suffocating her with unseen force.

Eleanor's tear-streaked face snapped up in alarm. "Selene? What's happening?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Before either of them could process the moment further, a figure emerged. He didn't walk—he fazed. Through the thick steel door, as though it were nothing more than a veil of air, stepping into the room with a languid ease.

The man's presence was unnervingly quiet. His sharp features were framed by dark hair, his eyes glowing faintly as he surveyed the room. He wore a faint smirk, one that didn't reach his eyes, and the air around him was suffused with a dangerous energy that made Eleanor flinch and Selene tremble even harder.

"Eric," Selene whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible as she fought to steady her breathing.

Eric—or rather, the man who wore his face—tilted his head back and let out a soft, mocking laugh that echoed eerily in the room. The sound made Selene's skin crawl, her already fragile confidence shattering further. He took a step forward, his boots clicking faintly against the floor.

"Eric?" he repeated, his smirk deepening as he pointed to himself lazily. He laughed again.The man's smirk widened as he placed a hand over his chest in mock sincerity. "This reincarnation you've named Eric? That's me," he said, gesturing to himself as though it were a joke only he understood. "But let's not get confused here. I'm not him."

Selene blinked, her confusion mixing with unease as she clung to the edges of Eleanor's gaze. "If you're not Eric," she said hesitantly, "then who are you?"

The man's expression darkened slightly, his smile turning colder as he turned his attention to Eleanor. "Who am I?" he mused, his voice dripping with disdain. "You mortals always get so hung up on names. Fine, I'll humor you. Call me Killian."

Selene's body tensed further at the name, "Killian," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Ah, you've heard of me," Killian said, his tone smug as he crossed the room.He stopped just short of Selene, looming over her with an air of casual menace. "I would hope so, considering I'm the one keeping this little Eric of yours… asleep."

Selene's eyes widened in shock, and she stumbled back, her knees scraping against the cold, hard floor. "What do you mean asleep?" she demanded, her voice cracking.

Killian crouched down to her level, his crimson eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Oh, don't look so surprised," he said, his tone almost patronizing. "Did you really think Eric was the one calling the shots? No, no, no." He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "He's tucked away, sleeping peacefully in the back of my mind. And trust me, I don't plan on waking him anytime soon."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as his voice dropped to a low, sinister murmur. "There won't be two of us soon to have to worry about anymore."

Selene's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling as the implications of his words sank in. "You're… merging with him," she realized, her voice barely audible.

"Finally, she gets it," Killian said, clapping his hands together in exaggerated praise.

Eleanor's shock turned to anger, and she gasped, her eyes widening with recognition. "You!" she shouted, her voice rising with an intensity that reverberated through the chamber. "It's you!"

Killian's laugh echoed darkly in the room, full of malice and amusement. He didn't seem at all surprised by Eleanor's outburst. Instead, he simply watched her with a detached, almost mocking gaze. "Ah, so you do remember me, Eleanor," he drawled, his voice low and dripping with disdain. "That's what makes this so much more delicious, don't you think?"

Eleanor's chest heaved as her fists clenched, tears still spilling down her face. "You were the one she tried to take him from!" she cried, her voice broken, the weight of her own betrayal crashing down on her. "You were the one who—"

"I gave you the choice, Eleanor," Killian interrupted sharply, his voice suddenly ice-cold. His smirk vanished, replaced by an eerie seriousness that sent a chill through the room. He took a step forward, his presence overwhelming. "I gave you the choice to leave Alaric on your own, free of any ties or obligations. You could've walked away. But you didn't. Instead, you tried to take him from me." His eyes narrowed, burning with a deadly intensity. "And now look at where we are. This is your fault.No one gets to take what's mine."

Eleanor flinched, as if struck by his words. She opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. She knew it was true. She had tried to sever the bond between Killian and Alaric, but her motives had been driven by desperation, by a futile attempt to save something she couldn't even understand.

The tension in the room thickened, and Selene could feel her mother's heartbreak hanging in the air, raw and palpable. But just as she was about to respond, a sharp, seething voice cut through the silence.

"You," Killian said, his gaze snapping to Selene with a cold fury that sent a shudder through her. "You've done even worse. You've tortured him. My Alaric

Selene recoiled at the venom in his words, her own anger flaring, but she couldn't suppress the sudden, suffocating fear that gripped her chest. Killian's eyes burned into hers, filled with a hatred that felt unyielding.

" Alaric," Killian continued, his voice possessively tender, as if speaking of his beloved "What you've done to him..." His expression twisted, and his fangs suddenly extended, gleaming like knives in the dim light. His eyes darkened, and an eerie silence filled the room as his aura intensified, sending a shockwave of power through the air,"shall never be forgiven."

A cruel laugh escaped him, but it was laced with unrestrained fury. "You will suffer tenfold."

Killian's form seemed to grow even darker as his fury escalated. The magic around him flickered violently, feeding off his rage. His body seemed to swell with power, his once human form now more formidable than before, more monstrous.

"I am Alaric's possession," he sneered. "He is my master and the one who gave me a reason to live." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "This time, my reincarnation has the abilities of a vampire, and when combined with my powers, there's no force in this world—no being—that can stand against me."

"You've overstepped for the last time, witch," Killian hissed, his voice low but brimming with menace. His sneer deepened, exposing fangs that gleamed sharp as razors. The air around him seemed to pulse, heavy and electric, as if the world itself recoiled from his fury.

"You touched what's mine." The words came slowly, deliberate, each one laced with venom. His eyes burned with a feral intensity, locking onto her like a predator sizing up its prey. "And when I'm finished with you, not even your shadow will remain."

The room seemed to shrink as his presence swelled, a dark force that sent a shiver down the walls. He didn't need to shout—his promise of annihilation was quiet, absolute, and terrifyingly real.