Nyx stumbled through the portal, his heart hammering violently in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and dread coiling inside him like a living thing.
The sensation of crossing worlds never softened, no matter how many times he did it. It always felt like being torn apart and stitched back together in the same breath. His lungs burned as he staggered forward, boots scraping against stone that felt too solid, too real after the shifting surfaces of the Mirror World. His pulse thundered in his ears, each beat echoing with a single name he was afraid to think too loudly. Stacy. The name lived in his chest, heavy and sharp, pressing against his ribs as if it wanted to claw its way out.
The human world unfolded before him with an almost cruel normalcy. Sunlight poured down in warm, golden sheets, kissing his skin without resistance. Somewhere nearby, people laughed—soft, careless sounds that didn't belong in a universe where blood and shadows dictated survival. The distant hum of conversation drifted lazily through the air, layered with the chirping of birds and the low whisper of wind through leaves. The scent of freshly cut grass wrapped around him, clean and familiar, dragging memories from the deepest corners of his mind. For a heartbeat, it almost hurt more than the Mirror World ever had.
But beneath that comforting familiarity was something wrong. Nyx felt it immediately, like a splinter buried under skin. As he approached the mansion, the place he had once called home, tension crawled up his spine. His eyes, sharp and trained to notice what others missed, caught the details that didn't belong. Garlands hung in deliberate patterns along the gates and balconies, not hastily thrown up but arranged with intention. Flowers bloomed in clusters too perfect to be coincidence, their colors screaming celebration. Ribbons fluttered gently in the breeze, brushing against stone and iron like delicate fingers.
His stomach churned as the front gate came into view. Where there had once been a familiar lock—scratched, old, something he'd opened a thousand times—there was now a new one. Polished. Unfamiliar. Foreign. The insignia of celebration gleamed mockingly against the metal, catching the sunlight as if proud of itself. Nyx's breath hitched. This wasn't just decoration. This was a declaration.
Panic surged before reason could catch it. Without stopping to think, without allowing doubt to slow his hands, Nyx surged forward. His fingers closed around the lock, and with a sharp twist of force, the metal screamed. The sound tore through the quiet like a wounded animal. It snapped apart under his strength, pieces clattering uselessly to the ground. He shoved the doors open, the wood groaning in protest as if the house itself recognized him—and feared what he was about to learn.
Inside, sunlight spilled across polished floors and marble surfaces, too bright, too calm. His gaze locked onto the table at the center of the hall. A single object rested there, innocent and deadly all at once. A golden envelope. It caught the light like a blade, its surface smooth, flawless, deliberate. Nyx approached it slowly, every step heavier than the last, his instincts screaming even as his hands trembled.
When he picked it up, his fingers shook so badly the paper rustled. The weight of it felt wrong, as if it carried more than ink and invitation. His eyes scanned the words once, twice—then stopped entirely. The world tilted. Sound drained away. An engagement invitation. Not his name. Not theirs. Jamie.
Shock slammed into him with brutal force. His chest constricted, breath freezing halfway to his lungs. For the first time in days—after blood, after monsters, after the Mirror World's relentless cruelty—fear gnawed at him. Raw and unfamiliar. It settled deep, whispering that something precious had been stolen while he wasn't looking.
Nyx's mind raced, thoughts colliding violently, a storm of disbelief, anger, and suspicion ripping through him. Jamie. The name echoed like a curse. The boy who had lingered at the edges of his life, who had smiled too easily, watched too closely. Nyx had dismissed him as a shadow, a harmless presence. Now that shadow stretched long and sharp, cutting straight through his chest.
A pang of betrayal flared, sudden and vicious. It wasn't just about Stacy. It was about the audacity. The invasion. The way Jamie had stepped into Nyx's life as if it were an empty house waiting to be claimed. As if Nyx had been erased the moment he vanished. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as realization struck with cruel clarity.
Jamie hadn't come by chance. This wasn't coincidence or opportunity seized on a whim. This was intent. Calculation. A slow, careful plan unfolding while Nyx fought to survive elsewhere. Jamie hadn't just wanted a place in the human world—he'd wanted Nyx's place. His face. His name. His life.
Darker thoughts followed, uninvited and relentless. Nyx imagined Stacy under Jamie's influence, her trust twisted, her will bent. The horror sharpened as his mind spiraled further—vampirism forced upon her, blood spilled in devotion to someone else's ambition. Or worse. Jamie was capable of more than imitation. He could erase obstacles. Permanently.
Rage ignited, sudden and searing. It spread through Nyx's veins, making his muscles quiver with barely restrained violence. The Mirror World had taught him many things—patience, restraint, strategy—but this was personal. This was his world being invaded, his heart being used as a stepping stone. Despite his desire to fully embrace vampirism, to sever ties and retreat into shadows, he knew one truth with terrifying certainty.
He could not allow the doors of the human world to close.
Not like this.
Clenching his fists, nails biting into his palms, Nyx bolted toward the engagement garden. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he ran, speed fueled by desperation. Every second felt stolen, time pressing down on him like an unyielding weight. If he was too late, there would be no undoing what Jamie had started.
The garden exploded into view, alive with human celebration. Light and color assaulted his senses all at once. Flowers bloomed in wild, vibrant chaos, their fragrances layered thickly in the air. Tables gleamed under white cloths, crystal glasses catching the sun, silverware arranged with ceremonial precision. Guests drifted between laughter and conversation, faces open and unguarded, blissfully unaware of the storm tearing toward them.
Nyx skidded to a halt at the edge of it all, his chest heaving. Relief surged first—sharp and dizzying—followed immediately by panic. Preparations were still underway. It wasn't over yet. But it was close enough to taste. His eyes darted through the crowd, searching frantically for one face among dozens, his vision tunneling with desperation.
Before he found her, he found Joey.
Without hesitation, Nyx grabbed him by the arm, fingers locking like iron. He dragged Joey toward a secluded corner, away from curious eyes and careless ears. "Get ready," Nyx snapped, voice tight, coiled with urgency. "Stacy is waiting!"
Joey stumbled, confusion flashing across his face. "What are you—" His words cut off as Nyx, frustration boiling over, struck him sharply. The sound cracked through the air, brief and violent.
"How can you expect me to get married at nineteen, you idiot?" Nyx shouted, disbelief and fury tangling in his throat. "How is everyone even okay with this?"
Joey's shock hardened into rage. He grabbed Nyx by the collar, yanking him close, eyes burning with something dangerous. "If you betray Stacy, we will kill you," he growled, each word deliberate. "Don't hurt her. After her father's death, she's already been through too much trauma to suffer another."
The world tilted again. Nyx staggered back, the words hitting harder than any blow. "Her father… died?" His voice came out broken, barely more than a whisper. "When?"
Joey's gaze didn't soften. "Please," he said quietly, almost cruelly, "don't act like you weren't gone for fifteen days."
Nyx froze.
Fifteen days. The number echoed hollowly in his mind. He had known the cost of crossing worlds, but hearing it aloud made it real in a way nothing else had. He had been gone. Truly gone. While time bled forward without him. While grief carved new wounds he hadn't been there to see.
And then he saw her.
Stacy stood among the guests, radiant in a way that made his chest ache. Sunlight caught in her hair, laughter dancing easily on her lips as if the world hadn't shifted beneath her feet. Relief crashed into him so hard it almost buckled his knees. Confusion followed, sharp and disorienting. How could she smile like that?
Nyx ran to her, words spilling out raw and unfiltered. "I… I can't get engaged to you now," he gasped. "We're just nineteen!"
She laughed lightly, a sound that twisted something deep inside him. Shaking her head, she smiled. "I'm not interested in marrying you. I'm getting married to Nyx."
The knife twisted.
"What… what rubbish?" Nyx stammered, panic clawing up his throat. "I am Nyx!"
"No," a calm voice cut in smoothly. "I am."
Jamie stepped forward, composed, predatory, wearing Nyx's face like a well-tailored mask. A smirk played on his lips, eyes glittering with dark amusement.
Rage exploded.
Nyx lunged without thinking, hands reaching for Jamie's throat—but he was too slow. "Bob!" Jamie commanded.
The kick hit Nyx's chest with brutal force, sending him stumbling backward. Pain lanced through him as he caught himself, breath ripping from his lungs. He straightened slowly, eyes locking onto Jamie's.
And then he saw it.
Not just Jamie—but everyone. Empty gazes. Still smiles. Movements too synchronized, too obedient. The truth crashed down with sickening clarity. They weren't choosing this. They were controlled.
"Leave them!" Nyx roared. "They are innocent!"
Jamie laughed, rich and cruel. "No," he said. "They are my servants now. I am their king."
The words echoed like a curse.
Nyx shouted about laws, about balance, desperation bleeding into fury. Jamie mocked him, dismissed the rules as weakness. Time fractured as Nyx made a choice he never thought he would.
"I will help you," he said, voice steady despite everything. "But you leave the humans."
Intrigue flickered.
The diamond came out, blazing in the sunlight. Jamie's awe was brief—but real.
A deal was struck.
Control was released.
Truth spilled.
Confusion gave way to fragile relief.
Jamie admitted what he was.
Nyx asked them to forget.
And then Jamie left.
The garden slowly breathed again. Laughter returned, softer now, uncertain. Nyx stood beside Stacy, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The diamond weighed heavy in his hand, ticking like a silent clock.
Forty-eight hours.
The sky began to darken, twilight bleeding slowly across the horizon. Shadows stretched long across the garden, curling at Nyx's feet like reaching fingers. Somewhere beyond the trees, the air felt thinner, charged, as if something was waiting.
Watching.