The Hollow Craving

The damp chill of the underground chamber clung to Damian's skin long after Lucian had disappeared into the shadows. The flickering torchlight cast wavering patterns across the stone walls, but its warmth never reached him.

His heart still thudded against his ribs—each beat a reminder of the hunger that lurked just beneath the surface. His throat burned with a craving he couldn't understand, and every breath carried the faint scent of blood lingering in the air.

He hated it.

He hated how the mere thought of it made his mouth dry, how the ache twisted deep inside him like something alive.

Is this what I am now?

The whispers had faded, but their presence lingered—like ghosts just out of sight.

Valtor... Embrace what you are...

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing shallow.

No.

He wasn't ready to embrace anything.

He stumbled to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. His whole body felt... wrong. Every muscle tensed, every nerve on edge. The world around him felt too sharp, too vivid—colors brighter, sounds louder. He could hear the slow drip of water echoing through the chamber... feel the pulse of life thrumming in the air.

His senses had been awakened—just like Lucian had said.

But it wasn't a gift.

It was a curse.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to steady his breath. The hunger gnawed at him, relentless. It whispered in the back of his mind, urging him to feed.

Would it always be like this?

Would he always feel this hollow ache clawing at him from the inside?

His fingers curled into fists.

"I won't become a monster."

He had to hold on to that—no matter how loud the hunger screamed.

A distant creak echoed through the chamber. Damian's head snapped toward the sound, his sharpened senses latching onto the faint footsteps approaching from the shadows.

Someone was coming.

His heart quickened.

The hunger stirred, slithering beneath his skin.

A figure emerged from the darkness—a young woman wrapped in a tattered cloak. Her hood was pulled low over her face, but Damian caught the glint of dark eyes beneath the fabric.

She moved cautiously, her gaze flickering around the chamber before landing on him.

"You must be the new fledgling."

Her voice was low, almost musical—yet there was something sharp hidden beneath the surface.

Damian straightened, forcing the hunger down.

"Who are you?"

The woman pulled back her hood, revealing sharp features and dark, wavy hair that framed her pale face.

"I'm Selene," she said simply. "Lucian sent me to make sure you don't tear yourself apart on your first night."

Her eyes flicked over him, assessing.

"You resisted... that's rare."

Damian's jaw clenched.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

A faint smirk touched her lips.

"No. It means you're more dangerous than you realize."

He didn't want to be dangerous.

He just wanted to be himself again—whoever that even was now.

Selene stepped closer, her movements fluid and deliberate.

"You think the hunger makes you weak... but you're wrong. It's power—if you learn to control it."

Damian's throat tightened.

"What if I don't want it?"

Her smirk faded, her dark eyes turning colder.

"You don't get a choice, Valtor."

That name again.

It felt heavier every time someone spoke it—like shackles wrapping tighter around his soul.

Selene's gaze locked onto him.

"The hunger will never leave you. It will always be there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You can fight it for a while... but eventually, it will break you."

Damian's heart pounded.

"I won't let it."

Selene's smirk returned, colder this time.

"They all say that at first."

She turned away, walking toward the far wall where a narrow corridor disappeared into darkness.

"Come on, fledgling. Lucian wants you to learn... and your lessons are just beginning."

Damian's muscles tensed.

He didn't trust her.

But he couldn't stay here alone.

Not with the hunger clawing at him.

With a deep breath, he pushed off the wall and followed her into the shadows.

The corridor twisted through the underground labyrinth, the air growing colder with every step. Damian's sharpened senses picked up every sound—every distant drip of water, every faint breath echoing through the stone walls.

The hunger stirred with each heartbeat, but he forced it down—clinging to whatever shred of control he still had.

Selene led him deeper into the darkness, her footsteps soundless against the stone floor.

"You don't belong to yourself anymore," she murmured without looking back.

Damian's fingers curled into fists.

"I didn't ask for any of this."

Selene's laughter echoed through the corridor—soft and hollow.

"None of us did."

They reached a heavy iron door at the end of the passage. Selene pressed her palm against it, and the metal groaned as it creaked open.

Beyond the door lay another chamber—smaller, with stone walls lined with flickering candles. A single figure stood waiting in the center of the room.

Lucian.

His pale eyes gleamed in the dim light.

"You resisted the hunger," Lucian said, his voice calm. "Impressive."

Damian's jaw clenched.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Lucian's cold smile returned.

"It's a warning."

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing.

"Every moment you resist... the hunger will only grow stronger."

Damian's heart thudded painfully against his ribs.

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

Lucian's smile sharpened.

"You don't fight the hunger, Damian... you learn to live with it."

Damian's breath caught in his throat.

He didn't know if he could live with it.

But deep down...

He feared there was no other choice.

Bound by blood... bound by hunger.

The whispers would never leave him.

And the hollow craving would never let him go.