As the days wove onward like threads in a grand tapestry, Veylan found himself in the frequent company of Kora rather than Selene. Their strolls through the moonlit gardens were filled with tales both wondrous and exaggerated, each spinning their own stories like bards of old. Kora spoke of vast, mist-laden pastures and enchanted forests, while Veylan countered with legends of shadow-cloaked knights and blood-bound kings. Yet, despite the warmth of their conversations, his thoughts often drifted elsewhere—to the girl who only emerged beneath the veil of night.
His only true moments with Selene were stolen under the stars, where whispered laughter curled like smoke in the darkness. They spoke of history, of ancient wars and fallen empires, their voices carrying the weight of a thousand years before slipping into playful jests about Jin’s relentless efforts to outshine them all.
But today was different.
As he walked alongside Kora, the garden bathed in the soft glow of twilight, his gaze was drawn—irresistibly, unshakably—to Selene. Across the courtyard, their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the world slowed. A ghost of a smile touched her lips, a secret hidden beneath the golden light of dusk. Before he could think, his hand lifted in a silent greeting. Kora’s laughter rang beside him, oblivious, while Selene merely turned away.
She would be perfect for Jin.
Night descended, draping the castle in shadows, and once again, Veylan found himself waiting in the gardens. The cool air was thick with the scent of lilacs, the only sound the distant hum of nocturnal creatures stirring in the hedges. He leaned against the cold marble of a fountain, fingers drumming idly against the stone as anticipation clawed at his ribs.
But she did not come.
A sigh slipped from his lips, heavy with disappointment. He glanced around once more, half-expecting her to materialize from the darkness with some clever quip, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. But the garden remained still.
With a low chuckle, bitter and resigned, he let the shadows take him. Smoke curled from his form, tendrils of darkness unfurling as his body shifted. A flutter of leathery wings, a whisper against the wind, and he soared effortlessly into the night.
Circling the towering spires of the castle, Veylan’s keen eyes traced the labyrinth of hallways beyond the glass panes, searching—hoping. When he came upon a lone, flickering candle, his gaze was drawn to the figure within.
And then he froze.
His wings faltered as warmth crept up his spine. Oh.
In the shivering glow of candlelight, Selene reclined, unguarded and exposed, a sensual tableau framed by the cold breeze whispering through the open window. Her lips, plump and parted, released silent, rhythmic gasps as her legs, stretched wide, revealed her most intimate sanctum.
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Her fingers, slender and well-tended, delved in and out of her silken heat, while her thumb circled the delicate pearl of her clit, aching and erect. Her eyes fluttered and rolled back as waves of pleasure crashed within her, each gasp and arch of her back a testament to her carnal dance. Her toes curled into the cool silk of her bedsheets, her breath hitching as she propelled herself ever closer to the precipice of ecstasy. Her hair, a dark cascade, spread around her like a lush fan, her head lolling to the side, lips parted in breathless moans.
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Veylan, concealed within the night's embrace, watched from his perch, his form quivering, eyes aglow like crimson embers. His breath hitched as he observed her slick, glistening fingers plunge into her warmth, her body writhing in sync with her passionate rhythm.
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His heart pounded, his face flushed, as he struggled to maintain his composure. His pants felt tight, constricting, as he hardened at the sight of her unbridled passion. He could hear the soft, wet sounds of her pleasure, see the pulse in her neck quicken, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
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With trembling hands, he undid his buckle, freeing himself, a soft groan escaping his lips as he grasped his shaft. He knew he shouldn't, but the sight of her, wild and untamed, was more than he could resist.
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He matched her rhythm, his hand stroking his length in time with her thrusts, his head tilting back as pleasure coursed through his veins. His hips bucked gently, his breath hitching as he neared his climax.
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Selene's moans grew louder, her body tensing as she reached her peak. Her back arched, her fingers glistening as she came, white hot pleasure dripping from her core. Veylan, watching her, felt his own release, his thumb pressing to the tip of his cock as he spilled over his hand, a soft grunt escaping his lips. His body shuddered, his heart pounded, and he was left breathless, bathed in the warm glow of their shared, secret passion.
Selene gasped, her breath hitching as she lay sprawled against the silken sheets, her chest rising and falling in the moon’s silver glow. Her fingers trembled as she withdrew them, eyes half-lidded, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure. With a slow turn of her head, she gazed toward the open window, the cool night air caressing her heated skin.
Veylan’s fingers twitched as he hurriedly tucked himself back in, a rush of shame and thrill warring in his chest. Without a second thought, he dissolved into a flurry of dark wings, desperate to escape before she noticed.
Selene’s brow arched, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she caught the faintest whisper of movement. Curious.
Veylan flapped harder, the wind slicing against him as he shot across the night sky. The moment he neared his chambers, his form unraveled into a plume of black smoke, spilling through the open window before solidifying once more. He staggered, chest heaving.
Fuck.
A trembling hand raked through his hair as he panted, his pupils still blown wide with lingering heat. That was… hot. Too hot. His veins pulsed with something dark and intoxicating, something raw and electric that sent a shudder through his very bones.
And he knew, without a doubt—he was utterly obsessed.
With her.
With this woman he had only just met, whose voice haunted the corridors of his mind, whose presence wrapped around him like an inescapable spell. His skin burned at the memory, his face an uncharacteristic shade of red. He swallowed hard, heart hammering as he stumbled backward, collapsing onto the vast expanse of his bed.
A slow, wicked grin curled at his lips as he dragged a hand over his face, chuckling beneath his breath.
Oh, fuck… this was going to be fun.
The next few days at the estate blurred together in a haze of idle routines—hours spent sketching in the parlor, the occasional stroll through the gardens, and the ceaseless plucking of his lyre whenever his mother reminded him to practice. Veylan sighed, fingers drifting from the strings as his gaze flickered around the room.
His brother had already returned to the military academy, leaving him the sole male presence in the household. His mother sat poised on a velvet couch, delicate hands guiding a needle through the intricate threads of her embroidery hoop. Across from her, Selene’s mother sipped wine, swaying absentmindedly to the last lingering notes of his melody. Her daughters huddled beside her, whispering behind lace-gloved hands, their laughter soft and fleeting.
But Selene was nowhere to be seen.
His frown deepened. He had been watching her—perhaps too often—since the first night he had glimpsed her lost in her own world, unguarded and free. The memory still unsettled him, sent heat curling under his skin and set his heart pounding in ways he couldn't quite name. And when he thought about it now...
"Mother, I think I'll step out for some fresh air," he said, rising from his seat.
His mother lifted her head with a soft smile. "Of course, darling. Will you take Yolanda out for a ride?"
Veylan returned her smile and set the lyre aside. "Naturally," he murmured, rounding the couch to press a gentle kiss to her cheek before making his way toward the door.
He had nearly crossed the threshold when he heard the hushed voice of Selene’s mother behind him.
"Your son is quite the charmer," she mused. "He would make an excellent husband for one of my daughters, don’t you think?"
Veylan’s steps faltered. His expression darkened, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides.
Not one of her daughters.
His fangs pressed against the inside of his lip as he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to keep walking. There was only one woman in that house he would ever consider making his wife. And if fate had any say in it—he would have her.
Veylan didn’t respond. He didn’t even wait to hear his mother’s reply. Instead, he exhaled sharply and strode out of the palace, making his way toward the stables.
The scent of hay and leather filled the air as he approached a stable boy. "Ready my mother’s horse," he ordered, his voice clipped. The boy hurried to comply, leading out the tall, sleek mare—a striking golden creature with a braided mane, delicate flowers woven into its strands, a perfect reflection of his mother’s taste.
As he waited, Veylan chewed at his nail, his mind consumed by a single thought—Selene.
Then he heard it.
The rhythmic pounding of hooves against the dirt.
His eyes flicked toward the sound, just in time to catch a wisp of black hair whipping through the air, the fleeting glimpse of a figure speeding past the edge of the stables. Selene.
His pulse leapt.
"Move faster, you imbecile," he hissed, smacking the stable boy on the back of the head.
The boy fumbled with the last buckle, hands shaking under Veylan’s impatient glare. The moment the strap was secured, Veylan didn’t hesitate—he planted his foot in the stirrup, swung his leg over the mare’s back, and snapped the reins.
"Hya!"
The horse surged forward, hooves kicking up dust as they shot out of the stables, leaving the boy coughing in their wake.
His crimson eyes locked on her fading figure, disappearing into the thick embrace of the forest.
Where did she always run off to?
The rhythmic thud of hooves echoed through the forest as Veylan snapped the reins once more, urging his mother’s mare forward. The wind clawed at his pale blonde hair, sending it whipping behind him like silver strands caught in a tempest. His crimson eyes remained locked on Selene’s fleeting silhouette, her dark hair vanishing between the trees like a specter. Then—nothing.
With a frustrated snarl, he yanked back on the reins, forcing the horse to slow. He circled the area, scanning the dense woodland with a scowl. Gone. Again. A low groan of irritation rumbled from his throat as he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts tightening around him like creeping vines. His booted heel nudged against the mare’s flank, guiding her into a slow, contemplative trot down the path.
Then, like a whisper on the breeze, he heard it.
A melody, soft yet piercing, curling through the air like mist. His breath hitched. The notes wove around him, delicate yet insidious, each one laced with something unearthly. A siren’s song. His pulse quickened as the melody tugged at the edges of his mind, filling his thoughts with a gentle fog. His lips parted, instinctively yearning to answer the call.
Biting down on his lip to ground himself, Veylan snapped the reins again, steering the horse toward the sound. As he neared the forest’s edge, he slowed to a stop and slid off the mare’s back, landing silently. Moving with a predator’s grace, he crept behind a tree and peered beyond the underbrush.
And there she was.
Selene sat upon a smooth rock in the shallow water, her black-and-white Victorian gown fanned around her like ink spilling into the river. The sunlight kissed her porcelain skin, illuminating her with an ethereal glow. Around her, sirens coiled and wove through the water, their hauntingly beautiful voices twining with hers as they gently adorned her midnight hair with pearls and delicate flowers. Her lips, painted with the softest hymn, curved into a serene expression, lost in the melody she conjured.
Veylan’s breath caught.
His crimson eyes widened, transfixed by the vision before him. A goddess among monsters. A melody among the damned.
And he was utterly, irrevocably ensnared.
The song coiled around Veylan’s mind like silk, tugging him deeper into its embrace. His body swayed unconsciously, lulled by the ethereal melody, his breath slowing—until the song ended abruptly. The enchantment shattered, leaving him blinking back into reality. His crimson eyes snapped toward the sirens, where Selene now sat, whispering something to one of them with a soft giggle.
Then, she smirked.
"I know you're there, Veylan," she hummed, her voice carrying effortlessly over the lapping waves.
His entire body went rigid. For a brief, cowardly moment, he considered turning on his heel and disappearing into the forest, pretending he had never come. But instead, he forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and took a step forward, boots sinking slightly into the damp sand.
"I didn’t think a banshee of your status would be lounging by the ocean," he teased, slipping on his usual confident grin, though his pulse still thundered from being caught.
Selene let out an amused snort, covering her mouth with delicate fingers. The sirens around her lingered for a moment, their eerily beautiful eyes flicking between them, before slipping beneath the water’s surface, disappearing into the depths.
"What makes you say that?" she mused, tilting her head as if genuinely curious.
Veylan’s grin widened as he stopped just short of the waterline, the tide barely brushing against the polished leather of his shoes. "Oh, you know~ I just assumed banshees and water wouldn’t mix well. You sing, the water drowns it out—seems like an unfortunate match," he said casually, nudging a seashell with the toe of his boot.
Selene’s expression shifted, her smirk fading into a slight frown, white eyes narrowing. "Actually, I prefer to sing near the water," she said, her tone sharper now. "It ensures I won’t accidentally kill someone."
His teasing grin faltered. For a moment, he merely studied her, watching the way her fingers absently toyed with the pearls in her hair, her posture both relaxed and defensive.
"Fair enough, I suppose," he murmured, shrugging off his previous jest.
The waves rolled gently between them, filling the silence with their quiet song.
Veylan chewed the inside of his cheek, staring out at the waves as silence stretched between them. Had his question come off wrong? He debated backpedaling, but before he could, Selene sighed and ran her fingers through her ink-dark hair.
"So~" she drawled, tilting her head. "Are you stalking me, or did you just happen to stumble onto this beach for no reason?"
His heart stuttered for a moment. Did she know?
"I was, uh—just taking Mother’s horse for a ride. Per her request," he said, a little too quickly. "I just happened to hear the song."
A lie. He had definitely chased her out here.
Selene arched a skeptical brow, unconvinced. "Is that so?" she mused, voice lilting with amusement.
He nodded, folding his hands behind his back, willing himself to appear composed. His gaze flickered toward her, only to find her already looking at him. Their eyes locked—hers trailing up his form until they met his own. He inhaled sharply.
"Is there something on my face?" he asked, half-joking, half-curious.
Her lips curled into a smirk. "If you count that permanent smug look you always have—then yes," she quipped.
Veylan gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "I do not look smug!"
She snorted. "You go to a rich kids’ boarding school for magic. That automatically makes you smug."
Before he could retort, a splash of seawater hit his arm. He recoiled, glaring at her in playful betrayal before a mischievous grin spread across his lips.
"You little—" He stepped toward her, his movements slow, calculated. His nose barely brushed hers as he reached behind her, feigning innocence. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching for just a second. He swore he saw the faintest blush dust her cheeks.
Selene recovered quickly. "Is that the only retort you can muster?" she teased, arching a brow.
His crimson eyes flickered to her lips, a smirk tugging at his own—just before he tipped a handful of cold saltwater over her head.
She gasped, shuddering at the sudden chill, then promptly lost her balance, tumbling backward into the shallow waves. "You asshole!" she sputtered, sitting up, water dripping from her hair as she gaped at him in flabbergasted betrayal.
Veylan cackled, dodging a piece of seaweed she flung at his head.
"Alright, alright," he grinned, extending a hand to her. "Truce."
Selene huffed but giggled, placing her palm in his, fully expecting him to help her up. And he did—just before shoving her back down into the water.
She let out a sharp yelp as she landed with a splash, her dress now fully soaked and clinging to her pale skin.
"Veylan!" she shrieked, looking up at him in disbelief.
He snorted, barely holding back his laughter. "Okay, now I’m done."
She squinted at him, suspicious. Then, ever so sweetly, she took his offered hand again.
And yanked him down with her.
His startled yelp was music to her ears as he hit the water.
Selene stood, squeezing out her dress with an impish grin. "How’s the water feel~?" she teased, sticking out her tongue.
Veylan sat in the shallows, utterly drenched, crimson eyes wide with surprise—before a slow, crooked smile crept onto his face. A hint of adoration flickered in his gaze as he shook his head.
"Cold," he admitted, but he wasn’t really talking about the water.
Selene’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. “Good~ Perfect for you, then,” she purred, her voice laced with venom. She let out a soft snort, and he stared at her, his eyes widening for a moment. Did she just—? The shock quickly turned to confusion as she shrugged off her drenched jacket, tossing it onto the rock where she had once sat, and began walking away. He squeezed the water out of his shirt, his brow furrowing as he followed her.
“Hey, wait—what was that?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine confusion. His brows knitted together, trying to process what had just happened. She wrung out her hair, barely sparing him a glance as she kept walking.
“What do you mean?” she replied shortly, her tone distant.
His heart stuttered. “That… your attitude changed. Did I say something wrong?” He asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes. She stopped, and without looking back, sighed heavily.
“Actually, yes,” she hissed, her voice seething with restrained anger. “Assuming that my kind wouldn't want to be near water because of our nature is repulsive. Not all of us wish death or lure innocent souls to their end.” She pivoted suddenly, taking a step toward him, her eyes narrowing into a lethal glare. She jabbed a finger into his chest, her eyes burning.
His breath hitched. Fuck. He had messed up. “Shit, Selene, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He exhaled, trying to push the wet strands of his hair from his face.
“Bullshit.” She snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. “All you vampires are the same. Smug, egotistical, and bloodthirsty.” Her hand shot out and grabbed his face, her fingers digging into his cheeks with surprising force. He froze, the sharpness of her nails sending a shiver down his spine. His face flushed as he inhaled sharply.
“And don’t think I don’t know about your little stalking, either. You musky sky rat.” Her voice dropped into a low growl, eyes burning with fury.
His heart skipped a beat. Oh, fuck. She knew.
“I—Selene, it was just a coincidence! I left right after, I couldn’t—could never—pry like that, I barely even know you!” He rushed out, words tumbling over each other in his panic, the lie spilling from him like an avalanche.
She snorted, her grip loosening as she pulled her hand away. “You’re a terrible liar, Veylan Laurence.” The words were sharp, dismissive, as she turned to leave once more. But something dark flashed across his face, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her back toward him.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him as he crashed his lips against hers. She gasped in shock, her eyes wide, then narrowed as she clenched her teeth. She pushed hard against his chest, her breath ragged.
“Let. Me. Go.” She gasped, fury rising in her voice. But he didn’t relent, his tongue forcing its way past her lips. For a moment, she stiffened, resisting, but then—a soft moan—the briefest sound of surrender as her lips softened, and their tongues met.
But it didn’t last. Her face twisted into a dagger-like snarl, and with one sharp motion, she bit down hard on his tongue. He recoiled with a yelp, stumbling back as he clutched his mouth.
“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock, as if she had just committed an unforgivable crime.
She stood there, her chest heaving with fury, her eyes burning with contempt. “Don’t come near me again,” she snapped, her voice as cold as ice. And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving him standing there, stunned, the taste of her defiance lingering on his lips.
He scowled as he watched her gracefully mount her horse, disappearing into the forest once again. A low growl slipped from his lips as frustration bubbled up inside him. He kicked the sand hard, his fingers clutching at his hair in irritation. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, groaning as the weight of his own stupidity sank in. With a deep sigh, he dropped his hands to his sides, his chest heaving as he stalked over to the rock where she had left her jacket. He grabbed it with a huff and marched back toward his mother’s horse, throwing himself onto the saddle. The jacket rested carelessly over his shoulder as he snapped the reins, the horse kicking up dust as he trailed after her, but she was already gone.
The night passed without a glimpse of her. No midnight chats in the garden, no teasing remarks or cryptic conversations. He spent the evening stewing in silence, his mind replaying the exchange over and over. Later, as he soaked in his bath, his face submerged beneath the water, bubbles formed a thin film on the surface. I shouldn't have said that. His mind kept circling back to the words he couldn’t take back. And how the hell did she know it was him? Only a select few knew about his other form—his secret. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he ran his hands over his face.
“Veylan, you fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself, his words almost lost beneath the bubbles. He scrubbed at his face, his eyes closing tight as he beat himself up for his impulsiveness.
The next morning, he caught a fleeting glimpse of her as their family prepared to leave. he stood at a distance, watching the carriage with a quiet farewell, but he couldn’t bring himself to wave back. His lips were set in a tight line, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. He’d probably never see her again...
But then, a spark of something lit within him. His eyes narrowed with thought, a plan beginning to form. As the carriage rumbled away, he turned to his mother.
“I have a favor to ask, Mother,” he said, his voice steady, though there was a glint of mischief in his gaze.
She raised an eyebrow, peering at him over the brim of her sun-yellow hat. “What is it, dear?” Her curiosity was piqued.
A sly smirk tugged at his lips as he gestured for her to follow him, his movements confident and purposeful. "Follow me."
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