Veins of Desire

The first light of dawn filtered through the small cottage window, casting a golden glow over Lucian's motionless form. Elara sat in a wooden chair nearby, her head resting on her folded arms atop the table. She had tried to rest but found sleep elusive. The events of the previous day played over and over in her mind the stranger in the forest, his cryptic words, and the peculiar way he seemed to recognize her birthmark.

A sudden movement caught her eye. She straightened as Lucian stirred, his fingers twitching against the blanket. Slowly, his eyes opened, the silver irises catching the morning light. For a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze darting around the room until it landed on her.

"You're awake," Elara said softly, rising to her feet.

He winced as he tried to sit up, his hand instinctively going to the bandage on his chest. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse but steadier than before.

"My cottage," she replied, moving to his side. "You were injured. I found you in the forest and brought you here."

Lucian's expression hardened. "You shouldn't have."

Elara frowned. "You'd have died if I hadn't."

"Better me than you," he muttered under his breath, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"What does that mean?" she demanded, her frustration flaring. "You show up out of nowhere, barely alive, and speak in riddles. I think I deserve some answers."

He looked at her then, his expression unreadable. "You're braver than most," he said, almost to himself. "But bravery can be a dangerous thing."

Elara crossed her arms. "Stop deflecting. How do you know about my birthmark? What did you mean when you said they'll come for me?"

Lucian sighed, his fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. "Because your mark is a symbol of power a connection to an ancient prophecy. One that many would kill to prevent."

Her stomach tightened. "Prophecy? What are you talking about?"

He hesitated, as if weighing how much to reveal. "Centuries ago, there was a war between humans and vampires," he began. "It ended with the near extinction of my kind. The survivors went into hiding, but not before a prophecy was spoken. It foretold the rise of a Moonbearer someone marked by the crescent moon who would unite our worlds and restore balance."

Elara blinked, her mind reeling. "You think I'm this… Moonbearer?"

"I don't think," Lucian said, his gaze piercing. "I know."

She shook her head, taking a step back. "That's impossible. I'm just a healer. I've lived my whole life in this village."

"And yet your mark burns with magic," he said. "Magic you've likely felt but don't understand. You're not just a healer, Elara. You're more than you know."

Her pulse quickened as memories flashed through her mind moments when her birthmark had tingled or burned, when her hands had seemed to heal wounds faster than they should. She had always dismissed it as coincidence or her imagination.

"This doesn't make sense," she said, her voice trembling. "Why me?"

Lucian's expression softened. "I wish I could give you an answer, but the truth is, fate rarely makes sense. What matters now is that you're in danger. If the wrong people discover who you are, they'll stop at nothing to destroy you."

A knock at the door startled them both. Elara's heart leaped into her throat as she turned toward the sound. It was firm and deliberate, too forceful to be a neighbor dropping by.

"Stay here," she whispered to Lucian, grabbing a knife from the counter as she moved toward the door.

When she opened it, two men stood on the threshold, clad in dark cloaks and armed with swords. Their faces were cold, their eyes scanning the room behind her.

"Elara Thorne?" one of them asked, his voice sharp.

"Yes," she replied cautiously.

"We've heard rumors of a stranger in the village," the man continued. "We're here under orders from King Aldric to investigate. Have you seen anything unusual?"

Her grip on the knife tightened. "No," she lied. "Just tending to the sick as usual."

The man's gaze lingered on her, suspicion etched into his features. "If you see or hear anything, report it immediately. Harboring enemies of the kingdom is treason."

"I understand," she said, her voice steady despite the fear coiling in her chest.

The men lingered a moment longer before turning and walking away. Elara shut the door, her breath coming in shaky bursts.

"They're looking for you," she said, turning to Lucian.

His expression was grim. "And they'll keep looking. You've just put yourself in danger by helping me."

She shook her head. "I don't care. If what you're saying is true, then I can't just turn my back on this. But if I'm going to help you, I need to know everything. No more half-truths."

Lucian studied her, his silver eyes unreadable. Then he nodded. "Very well. But once you know the truth, there's no going back."

Elara squared her shoulders, her resolve hardening. "I wasn't planning to."