SOON, I HAVE TO CHOOSE

"Quit your job." His voice was low but steady as he turned his back, creating distance.

My brows furrowed at his unexpected demand. I had just taken his blood, and there was something unsettling yet intoxicating about it. A strange strength surged through me, a warmth that lingered longer than it should, filling me with energy I hadn't felt in weeks.

"Why?" I managed, my voice still shaky. I couldn't make sense of his words—quit? Just like that? I needed this life, this structure, even if it barely held me together. This was all I had.

He faced me, his expression unreadable. "Because you're more than that job, more than what you're allowing yourself to be. What you're facing… it's bigger, darker than you realize. That routine can't protect you from it."

I looked away, fighting the instinct to brush him off, but a part of me knew he was right. Every day, I struggled to balance the mundane with the secrets I kept, the quiet nightmares I couldn't explain. But walking away from it all—leaving behind the one shred of normalcy I clung to—felt like letting go of my last link to the person I used to be.

"What if I can't?" I whispered, the vulnerability clear in my voice.

"Why not?" he replied, as if it were absurd for me to want to hold onto the life that once felt so normal. The life I had clung to, hoping it could anchor me, now seemed fragile—useless even—in the face of what was coming.

I wanted to argue, to explain why I wasn't ready to leave that stability behind, but I couldn't find the words. Part of me knew he was right; my old life couldn't shield me from what lay ahead. And yet, the thought of letting go completely felt like losing the last remnants of who I used to be.

He watched me, his gaze softer but unrelenting. "You can't keep one foot in both worlds, Fiera," he said quietly. "Sooner or later, you have to choose."

-

He left once he was certain I was alright. I didn't even catch his name. I had already drunk his blood, yet he was still a stranger.

I drifted off to sleep after everything, my thoughts tangled with questions about him. 

When I woke up, the sky was just starting to lighten. Feeling groggy, I got up, showered, and dressed with no real plan but a nagging urgency. Soon, I found myself heading toward the Flower District, drawn to the dimly lit Argus Club, where everything felt steeped in secrets.

When I arrived at the Argus Club, it was still open, but people were steadily streaming out, hinting that it was close to closing. I moved to enter, but a guard blocked my path, his tone firm.

"We're closing now," he stated, holding me back.

"Tell your boss I'm here," I replied, trying to glimpse inside, half-ready to slip past him or dash in.

"He knows," the guard replied, unfazed, "but he told us not to let you in tonight. Come back tomorrow night." 

I could feel a mix of frustration and curiosity building, wondering why I was being kept at arm's length.

I took a deep breath, frustration swirling inside me. Why did I think I could waltz into his territory? Just because he shared his blood with me? It felt foolish now, a silly hope clinging to me in the dark.

Right. I didn't even know his name, yet I was expecting something more from him. As I wandered away, I felt the chill of the evening air wrap around me. If I were still normal, I'd probably be shivering in this thin t-shirt and jeans, but now I felt oddly numb, as if my body was slowly adjusting to a new reality.

I hadn't gotten far from the Flower District when a strong hand grabbed my arm and yanked me forward. It felt like we were sprinting through the night, and I had no choice but to keep up, my heart racing with confusion and adrenaline. 

Suddenly, I stumbled and tumbled into the soft grass, rolling over and over as I tried to regain my balance. The world around me spun for a moment, and I felt the cool earth beneath me, grounding me in the chaos of this unexpected turn of events.

I looked up to see who had grabbed my arm, but before I could react, he lunged at me. His teeth sank into my neck, and I screamed as loud as I could. Fear shot through me, and I fought hard to push him away. 

I could feel his grip tighten, and all I wanted was to escape. The pain was sharp, and I felt so small and helpless, caught in a fight for my life against someone who was much stronger than me.

An unseen force yanked me away from the bite, swift and sure. Even before I saw him, his scent gave him away. Relief washed over me as I turned and faced the owner of the Argus Club—the mysterious man I still didn't know by name.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ZIAN?!" he yelled, his tone harsh and dangerous. My eyes followed his glare to Zian, who stood with a sinister grin, his eyes glowing a dark red. Blood stained his lips, and he licked it away with satisfaction, making my skin prickle with unease.

"I wanted a taste," Zian replied, his voice thick with smug amusement. "Had to see if you were being truthful." He flashed a cruel smile. "But you know the rules, Calyx. Unsanctioned newborns like her? They don't get to live."