Chapter 7; The one in the shadows cont.

His breath still lingered at her ear, like smoke from a forbidden fire.

Annabelle's gasp caught between fear and longing.

She turned to face him fully now-this stranger whose presence wrapped around her like silk soaked in blood. He was beautiful in the most dangerous way. Sharp cheekbones. Hungry eyes. A smirk that could break kingdoms.

His gaze flicked to her lips, slow... deliberate.

"You don't remember me," he said softly.

"I don't even know your name," she whispered.

"That makes two of us," he murmured, stepping closer.

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face-almost reverent, almost possessive.

"But my body remembers yours," he added.

Her skin prickled. Her mind screamed to resist, but her soul... her soul leaned into him. *Why?*

From the altar, the ancient vampire remained still, eyes never leaving her.

"Who is he?" she asked, voice trembling.

The stranger didn't look away from her. "A warning," he said. "A witness. Maybe a king, maybe a corpse. No one knows anymore."

"You brought me here?"

"No, *you* brought you here. I only waited."

She stepped back, needing space. Needing control.

"Why me?" she asked. "Why do I feel like I belong to you?"

The stranger's expression shifted, briefly-his smile faltered. "Because you do," he said, voice low. "But not just to me."

Annabelle's heart thundered.

"There are others," he continued. "Tied to you by blood, lust, and something older than fate."

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

"No," he said, with a soft sigh. "But it asked for *you.* And now\... it won't let go."

Her knees threatened to give out.

The ancient vampire finally moved-his fingers curling slightly on the armrest of his throne.

Just that small motion sent a tremor through the cathedral.

Annabelle flinched. "What is he?"

The stranger's voice dropped to a whisper. "He's the beginning. And maybe... the end."

He reached out and touched her throat, just above where her pulse used to beat. The touch was tender, and terrifying.

"You've only just awakened, my queen," he said. "There's so much you don't know. But I'll teach you. Slowly."

Annabelle's breath shuddered.

"Who *are* you?"

He stepped even closer, his lips a whisper from hers.

"Call me Zarek," he said.

Her eyes widened.

*The name.*

*That name...*

Something deep inside her cracked open like a locked door-and pain flooded through her mind. Fire. Teeth. A grave.

She staggered back, eyes wide, clutching her head.

Zarek didn't chase. He just watched, smiling like a predator who already knows his prey will return.

"You'll remember soon," he said. "And when you do... you'll crave me."

Annabelle turned and fled-past the silent vampire on the throne, out of the cathedral, and into the night.

But Zarek's voice followed her, curling through the wind.

"You can run, Goddess. But you're already mine."