Bloodline's Awakening

Chapter 8: Bonds

Blade

I had never been one to give much thought to matters of the heart. As an ancient vampire, I'd walked this earth for centuries, my existence characterized by solitude and indifference to the affairs of the living. No one had ever managed to capture my attention, let alone stir any romantic inclinations within me. Yet, here I was, on the precipice of an unexpected encounter that would challenge my solitary nature.

We had departed from the room where Luna's family and the other slayers had gathered, seeking the solace of an adjacent chamber. The transition from a crowded space to this newfound seclusion was well needed.

In this dimly lit chamber, it was just Luna and me. Her presence was a puzzle I couldn't help but contemplate, the richness of her dark skin and the elegant afro that framed her face captivating in a way that defied my centuries of detachment.

Addressing the unspoken complexity of our situation, I broke the silence. "Luna," I began, my voice steady and deliberate, "you should be aware that while emotions may stir within you after I mark you, it's highly unlikely for me. I have centuries of experience in these matters."

Luna met my words with a scoff, her expressive eyes narrowing as she rolled them in a gesture that combined audacity and a subtle undercurrent of nervousness. "Whatever, Mr. Confident," she retorted, her posture revealing a hint of apprehension despite her attempt to appear undaunted.

My faint, enigmatic smile remained, a testament to my stoic composure honed over millennia.

"You think centuries make you immune to feelings?" Luna challenged, her voice laced with defiance.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in response, her spirited banter both intriguing and irksome. "Not immune, Luna," I replied, my tone carrying a hint of amusement, "just highly resistant."

She huffed, the sound a mixture of annoyance and nervous energy. "Well, don't worry, ancient one," Luna shot back, "I don't plan on stealing your heart and I damn sure know you're not stealing mine."

Luna's determination was admirable, and it sparked a playful yet heated exchange between us. "You seem rather sure of yourself," I remarked, a subtle twinkle of amusement in my eyes.

Her lips curled into a wry smile, her confidence unwavering. "Well, Mr. Immune-to-Feelings," she teased, "I have a way of surprising people."

I chuckled softly, appreciating her spirited nature. I was shocked at how easily laughter escaped my lips. What the hell was going on with me?

"I don't doubt that," I admitted, my tone shifting to a more serious note. "But understand, Luna, that my hesitance isn't a matter of choice. It's a consequence of time and survival."

With an air of newfound confidence, Luna advanced a step. Her voice was resolute, almost commanding.

"Shut up, Blade. And let's begin," she declared.

A fiery rage ignited within me, my eyes blazing. Such insolence from anyone else would have provoked a swift and ruthless consequence. Yet, here I was, restraining myself, my fury simmering just below the surface.

In response, I deliberately encroached upon Luna's personal space, my presence looming and intimidating. The thought crossed my mind, how effortlessly I could snap her fragile human neck. But Luna was no ordinary human; she was the Night Huntress, reputed for her resilience.