Jayden did not sleep.
He stood watch at the edge of the ruins, back rigid, senses stretched far beyond the physical world. Every sound felt amplified—the whisper of wind through broken stone, the distant cry of night birds, the soft, steady breathing of three heartbeats behind him.
Three.
The word lodged in his chest like a blade.
He pressed his palm against the cool stone, grounding himself, forcing his thoughts into order. Panic would help no one. If Ariana was hiding something—and she was—he needed proof, not accusations.
Blood never lied.
He flexed his fingers, letting a thin line open along his palm. The scent of his blood bloomed instantly, rich and potent, humming with ancient power.
Not a summoning.
A test.
If the children were what his instincts screamed they were, they would feel it.
Behind him, two heartbeats stumbled.
Jayden's breath hitched.
He didn't turn.
He didn't have to.
The pull surged—sharp, visceral, unmistakable.
Recognition.
His vision darkened at the edges.
Slowly, he closed his hand, sealing the cut.
The pull receded—but the damage was done.
His body knew.
His blood knew.
Jayden exhaled shakily.
"Oh, Ariana…"
Ariana woke with a jolt.
The twins were already stirring, restless, small hands gripping the blankets.
"He's bleeding," one whispered.
Her heart slammed violently.
"What?"
They sat up, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "He cut himself."
Cold dread flooded her veins.
She moved instantly, pulling on her coat and stepping outside before fear could take control.
Jayden stood with his back to her, shoulders tense, head bowed slightly.
"You shouldn't do that," she said softly.
He turned.
Their eyes locked—and the air between them snapped taut.
"You feel it too," he said quietly. "Don't you?"
Ariana's throat tightened. "Feel what?"
"The pull," he replied. "The way they respond to me. The way my blood reacts to them."
Her hands curled into fists. "Stop."
Jayden stepped closer.
Each step felt like crossing a line neither of them could uncross.
"They're not human," he said gently. "Not fully."
She didn't deny it.
His voice dropped. "And neither are you anymore."
Something shattered inside her.
"You don't get to dissect us like specimens," she said sharply. "You don't get to bleed in the dark and decide our fate."
Jayden flinched—not from her anger, but from the hurt beneath it.
"I'm trying to protect you," he said.
A bitter laugh escaped her. "You're trying to claim us."
Silence stretched.
"I would never hurt them," he said fiercely. "I would die before—"
The world exploded.
A shrill screech ripped through the air as dark shapes tore themselves free from the shadows—six vampires this time, armored in old sigils, eyes blazing with intent.
"DOWN!" Jayden roared.
Ariana didn't hesitate.
She spun, shoving the twins behind a fallen pillar as power surged through her—wild, furious, protective. The ground erupted beneath the attackers, throwing two of them back in a violent spray of stone.
Jayden moved like a storm unleashed.
He tore through them with brutal efficiency—fangs, claws, steel, power—all of it blurring together. Blood painted the ruins. Screams echoed and died.
But there were too many.
Ariana felt it before she saw it.
A blade of dark magic sliced through the air—
—and sank into her side.
Pain exploded white-hot.
She gasped, knees buckling as blood soaked into her clothes.
"MAMA!"
The twins screamed.
Jayden turned.
Time stopped.
"No," he whispered.
He was at her side instantly, catching her as she collapsed, his hands slick with her blood.
The world dimmed.
Ariana's breath came shallow, lips paling.
Jayden snarled—a sound so feral it shook the ruins.
The remaining vampires fled.
He barely noticed.
"Ariana," he said urgently, lowering her gently to the ground. "Stay with me. Look at me."
Her lashes fluttered. "You always… tell me what to do."
Despite everything, he smiled faintly.
"You always listened anyway."
He pressed his hands to her wound, power flowing instinctively into her—controlled, careful, desperate.
"You're bleeding too much," he muttered.
"I've had worse," she whispered weakly.
He shot her a look. "You're terrible at reassuring people."
The twins hovered nearby, power flaring wildly, panic radiating from them in waves.
Jayden turned sharply. "Easy. Both of you."
They froze instantly.
Ariana's breath caught.
He hadn't meant to say it like that.
Like a command.
Like something instinctive.
Jayden realized it at the same moment she did.
The twins stared at him—wide-eyed, trusting, obedient.
Something inside Jayden broke open.
He looked back at Ariana, voice rough. "They listen to me."
She swallowed hard. "They always have."
The confession slipped out before she could stop it.
Silence crashed down.
Jayden's hands trembled against her skin.
"Why?" he whispered.
Ariana closed her eyes.
Because if she looked at him, she would give everything away.
"I need to heal," she said softly. "Please."
He nodded immediately, lifting her with impossible gentleness.
"I've got you," he murmured. "I won't let anything happen to you."
She believed him.
That scared her more than anything else.
Night wrapped around them as Jayden worked—cleaning the wound, binding it, feeding her small sips of water. His hands lingered longer than necessary, careful but reverent, as if she might disappear if he let go.
When she shivered, he pulled his coat around her without thinking.
Their faces were inches apart.
Too close.
The air thickened.
"You should hate me," she whispered.
"I tried," he replied honestly.
Her lips parted.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to breath and heat and the ache of everything they'd lost.
Jayden leaned in—
—and stopped.
Control slammed back into place like a cage.
"Not like this," he said hoarsely. "Not when you're hurt."
She exhaled shakily.
Thank you, she almost said.
Or maybe please don't stop.
She wasn't sure which terrified her more.
Later, as Ariana slept fitfully, Jayden sat awake, staring at the twins curled beside her.
They dreamed—power flickering softly around them like starlight.
His chest ached.
"Who are you to me?" he whispered.
The answer echoed in his bones.
Everything.
And soon…
He would demand the truth.