Eline exhaled slowly.
Then it happened.
Carlson's gaze lifted.
It found him immediately.
Not searching—finding.
For the briefest instant, something flashed in those eyes. Not light. Not reflection.
Red.
Eline's stomach droppe.
(Idiot Idiot, you got cought)
He pulled back at once, heart hammering, body moving before thought could form. Down the stairs, through the corridor, breath uneven—not running, but close enough that his lungs burned.
Don't be ridiculous, he told himself.
Vampires don't exist.
He turned the corner—
—and collided with a solid chest.
Hands caught his shoulders before he could stumble.
Carlson stood there.
Too close. Too fast.
Eline froze.
(Is he really a vampire or something how did got here so fast)
His eyes widening as he looked up at him
"How may I help you, sir?" he asked automatically, voice steady only because years of obedience had trained it to be.
Carlson looked down at him for a long moment, expression unreadable.
"You may help me," he said calmly, "by coming with me."
The study was warm, heavy with old wood and something metallic beneath the scent of books. Carlson gestured to a chair.
"Sit."
Eline obeyed.
A glass was placed in his hand. Dark liquid. Thick. Not wine. Not water.
Eline stared at it.
"…Is this," he hesitated, then forced the words out, "some kind of punishment?"
Carlson tilted his head slightly.
(If i don't admit the crime means i didn't do it
Yes thats how it works and who punishes someone for staring though, I will just say that's because you are so handsome. Yes
A compliment sould save me.you have got it!)
"For smelling?" Eline added quickly. "If I did something wrong, I'll correct it. I bathed. I'll bathe again. I didn't enter any restricted rooms, I swear."
A pause.
Then Carlson said, evenly, "It is not poison."
Eline looked up.
"You have my word."
Something about the way he said it made refusal feel irrelevant.
"But I don't know what it is," Eline said. "How can I drink something I don't know?"
Carlson's gaze sharpened—not angry, not threatening. Final.
"Then you may leave this house."
Silence pressed down.
Eline looked at the glass again. His fingers trembled despite his effort to still them.
"…This is required?" he asked.
"For you," Carlson said.
That was all.
Eline lifted the glass.
The liquid burned going down—not heat, but recognition. Like his body knew something his mind didn't. His vision blurred briefly, breath catching as a strange pressure settled beneath his skin, humming, listening.
Carlson watched him closely.
Eline swallowed the last drop.
The glass was taken from his hand.
"Good," Carlson said quietly.
Eline's pulse thundered.
"What was that?" he asked.
Carlson did not answer.
Instead, he turned away, already dismissing him.
Eline sat there, skin prickling, heart racing with a single, horrifying thought he refused to say aloud.
If that wasn't poison… then what did I just agree to?
Eline sat rigid, hands clenched in his lap, staring at his pale fingers as if they might betray him. His nails dug into his skin.
"Relax," Carlson said at last. "You're not dying."
Eline looked up, eyes wide. "Is something wrong with me?"
(Did he found out who i am or perhaps about my unfortunately special body, what could it be?)
The question slipped out.
Something shifted.
Carlson reached into his coat and withdrew a small stone, dull red at first glance. He held it slightly away from Eline's view.
As Eline breathed, as the potion settled—
the stone changed.
Red drained slowly into blue.
Carlson's jaw tightened.
He said nothing.
After a moment, he pocketed the stone.
"You may go," he said calmly.
Eline stood, bowed deeply, and left without another word.
Behind him, Carlson remained seated in the study, eyes dark.
Because the stone was not supposed to change.
And now, he knew—
Whatever Eline was,
he was not ordinary.
~Inside the study,
all five of them gathered.
Carlson stood at the center.
"He's real," Carlson said.
The first to react was Darian Valentino.
He did not rise. He did not lean forward. He simply lifted his gaze—slow, precise, predatory.
"What do you mean," Darian asked, voice quiet, dangerous in its calm, "by real?"
Carlson turned toward him.
"I mean exactly what you think it is."
Darian's eyes sharpened. "You confirmed it?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"The stone responded."
That was when the room truly stilled.
Darian's fingers tightened once against the armrest.
"So the blood exists," he said. "After all this time."
Lucien's expression darkened. Another brother shifted, restless.
"He will save us," Carlson said.
Darian exhaled slowly. "He's human."
"And alive," Carlson replied. "Which matters."
"He can't conceive, he is a boy after all" Darian said flatly.
"No," Carlson agreed. "That is the that we have to figure out."
Darian looked away for a moment—toward the closed door Eline had already passed through.
"Does he know?" Darian asked.
"No."
"And you intend to keep it that way."
"For now."
Darian's mouth curved slightly—not a smile. A calculation.
"Then be careful," he said. "Miracles don't like cages."
Carlson met his gaze.
"And monsters don't survive without them."
Carlson stepped closer to Darian.
Not hurried. Not hesitant. As if the decision had already been made long before the words were spoken.
"You should begin preparing the potion," Carlson said.
"The one that will allow him to conceive."
The room did not react immediately.
Darian's gaze lifted, sharp and unreadable.
"…Conceive children," he repeated, slow. Precise.
"Yes."
Darian leaned back slightly.
"It won't be simple," he said. "This isn't preservation. It isn't survival. I've never altered a human body to carry us. It can be done—but not quickly."
Carlson did not object.
"It will take time," Darian continued.
"What if he learns the truth?" Darian asked then, voice lowering. "What if he understands what his body is being prepared for?"
Carlson's expression did not change.
"Even if he does," carlson said, "he will still be under our control."
Darian's eyes flickered.
"He entered this house by his own path," carlson went on.
"But he will only leave by ours."
Silence stretched—heavy, deliberate.
"So take your time," Carlson finished.
"The turning has already begun."
Darian looked toward the door again—the direction Eline had gone.
"The world doesn't change all at once," Darian said quietly.
"It changes when something rare stops being protected."
Carlson allowed a thin smile.
"And starts being used."