Page 6

T he penthouse is eerily silent when I step inside. The space feels familiar but distant, like stepping into a memory instead of reality. Nothing has changed—but I have.

I fucking hate that I know I’m by myself. That Ares isn’t here. That once again, I’m on my own. I push the thoughts aside. If I don’t, I just might start drowning.

Now that I’m alone, now that the damn world has paused for two seconds, I feel… me.

And everything feels so damn different.

I walk slowly through the living room, dragging my fingers along the leather of the couch, the polished edge of the kitchen counter.

Everything feels changed. More tangible.

I can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator, the shift of air in the vents, the distant buzz of traffic from below.

My senses stretch out, reaching further than they ever have before, like I can feel the heartbeat of the entire city.

I make my way to the bedroom, my movements smooth, effortless. Too easy. There’s no sluggishness, no tension, just raw energy coiled beneath my skin, waiting to be unleashed. My body feels primed, honed to perfection.

And yet, it still doesn’t feel real.

I step into the bathroom and, standing in front of the mirror, I take myself in.

I don’t look that different at first glance.

My reflection stares back at me with the same sharp eyes, the same dark hair tumbling around my shoulders.

But then I look closer. My skin is flawless , every scar, every mark I’ve carried for years wiped away like they never existed.

I run my fingers over my forearm, expecting the familiar ridge of an old accident.

Nothing. Just smooth, untouched flesh. I’m only 24, so I don’t really have any wrinkles yet, but my entire face is so damn smooth I almost look like glass.

My muscles are subtly more defined, not bulky, but sculpted like my body has been streamlined for power. I’ve always been fit, but this is something… more.

And then, there are my teeth.

My tongue flicks over the points of my fangs. Somehow, they fit perfectly in my mouth, no aching, no unnatural shift when I bite down. They belong.

I exhale sharply, gripping the edge of the vanity. And even though I’m still looking at myself, I feel like my brain is slowly detaching. Dissociating. Because my eyes trail downward to my stomach. And I remember exactly what happened.

Giovanni tried to kill me. He sliced me open—left me dying. I should be dead. My own insides had been spilling out of me, and there was no coming back from that. No hospital, no surgeon, nothing could have saved me.

Except Florence.

Florence made a decision that no one else could. She took the risk. She turned me into something entirely new. The first of my kind. An experiment.

I squeeze my eyes shut, the weight of it pressing down.

Fuck. How do I even feel about this? Everything hasn’t stopped moving since I opened my eyes, and I haven’t really had a chance to catch my breath and feel my way through it.

I’m not human anymore. I’m… I’m the only one of my kind. I was the guinea pig. Things could have gone so damn wrong, but Florence had to just act.

My eyes open, and I stare back at myself.

I’m a total unknown. Am I truly immortal like Florence believes?

Florence seems to think I could get staked and still survive; the regeneration of her science is that strong.

But what if? I feel like a giant what if right now.

What if I change more than Florence expected?

What if my body keeps adapting? What if there are more side effects she hasn’t discovered yet?

I blink at myself in the mirror and take in a steady breath.

It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.

And I’m alive.

And more than that—if Florence is correct, I now have something I didn’t before: time.

Ever since I realized that I love Ares, I feared the one thing I could never change. Ares and I were never going to have forever. I was mortal, and he wasn’t. Even if we had a lifetime together, I know it with every damn bone in my body—it would never be enough.

The way I love Ares, the way he’s come to inhabit every inch of my soul, the way he’s rearranged my DNA with my need for him? My mortal days would never be enough, even if I lived to be a hundred years old.

But all that’s changed.

If Florence is right, now I have forever.

I won’t waste a second of it.

I’m going to find Ares, and I’m going to fix him.

A knock at the door breaks my thoughts. On instant alert, I cross the penthouse with quick strides, ready to fight or contain, depending on who it is.

I pull the door open, and about the last person I expect to see is Florence.

“Hi,” she says as she pushes her way into the apartment, ever confident, ever bossy.

She’s carrying a cooler, her expression carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. She sets the cooler down on the kitchen counter, and for a moment, neither of us speak.

“I gave the other scientists in the lab the day off,” she says finally, her eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“I was worried at least one of them would show up anyway. We’re all a bunch of workaholics.

Thankfully, they stayed away.” There’s something a little uneasy in her eyes, and that’s a rare sight.

“It just feels… wrong, off, to have anyone else in that space after everything that happened. But they’ll never know. ”

“Good,” I say simply. I can only imagine the implications if anyone found out what she’d done. I’m no scientist, but I imagine doing something as reckless as what Florence did wouldn’t be received well.

Florence watches me carefully. “How do you feel?”

I straighten, testing the weight of my own body, the hunger in my belly. “In control.”

She exhales, nodding. “Good. Because now, we have to figure out how to save Ares. I can’t stay. I’m meeting with a private investigator. I thought they could help find my brother.”

I smirk at that. “Between you, Sysco, and Harry, we’ll have half the city looking for Ares. They’re talking to their own PIs as well. Harry even has two bounty hunters lined up.”

“Good,” Florence says. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.” She steps for the door, hesitating just before she walks out. “I’m sorry, Lana. I am. That I made such a monumental decision for you. But I’d do it again. The Hunts do anything for the people they love.”

Before I can respond, she slips out the door, closing it with a quiet click.

Florence rarely makes apologies. She rarely makes mistakes.

And I don’t know that either of us truly views her decision as a mistake.

Not when the other option was death.

But once I’m alone again, something within me stirs.

The hunger starts as a slow pulse in my gut. Subtle, creeping, but insistent. My throat feels dry, my mouth tingling with the need for something more. It’s been hours since my last taste, and my body knows it.

The cooler sitting on the counter is like a beacon. My eyes slide to it, and somehow, I just know exactly what’s inside it.

With steady but greedy hands, I swing open the lid, and exactly as I knew there would be, there are a dozen bags of donated blood inside.

I grab one of them, barely hesitating before I rip it open.

The second the blood touches my tongue, relief crashes through me.

The liquid spreads down my throat, filling my veins, settling the restless energy vibrating in my limbs.

It’s like pouring gasoline on a dying flame—it roars back to life, strong and steady.

Holy shit. It’s amazing how this feels. How… perfect I feel. Like nothing could ever go wrong, like nothing could ever touch me. I feel like a fucking demi-god.

“But this is every day now,” I say to myself as I look at the empty bag.

Every. Damn. Day. I will need to drain one of these bags.

And it hits me like a bolt of lightning.

Or I could feed live.

There’s a reason for these sharpened teeth. Just like I’ve seen Augustus do, just like Lawrence did to me, I could sink these fangs into someone’s neck and draw out their blood.

Holy fucking shit.

The reality of it hits me in the chest.

I am a vampire.

A vampire.

Me.

Lana Kincade, soon to be Lana Hunt, is a vampire.

If I were the me of two days ago, I would feel a spiral coming on. Humans can only take in so much at once before there starts to be adverse side effects.

But I’m not human anymore.

Still, I don’t want to dwell on something that’s already said and done.

So, my eyes turn to the windows that look out at New York.

Somewhere out there, Ares is lost. Alone.

Hunting.

I set my jaw.

I’m coming for him.

And I won’t stop until I find him.

I retrieve Elle’s vampire toxin dart she gave me. I hid it in the guest bedroom, and it’s still there when I dig it out. I tuck it into my pocket, making sure it can’t fall out.

It’s fucking ridiculous, but as I walk to the door of the balcony, I feel this insane confidence. I feel a sense of urgency. And why bother with the elevator, the lobby, when I’m ready to go right now?

I climb onto the ledge, and I leap from the balcony.

A wicked smile pulls at my lips as I land effortlessly on the sidewalk. I stand straight, assessing my body, checking for breaks, for fractures, hell, for bruises. But there’s nothing. I feel as fantastic as ever.

It’s a good thing it’s only an hour until dawn, the time when the city is the quietest. As I look up and down the street, I don’t see anyone who might have witnessed me doing something that should be impossible.

I step forward and blend into the dark.

The city feels different now.

The cool dawn air slides over my skin, crisp and refreshing, but it doesn’t sink into my bones the way it used to.

I walk through the brightening streets of Manhattan, moving effortlessly, as if my body was built for this—because it was .

I have never felt safer in my own skin. My movements are fluid, every step precise, like I’ve always known exactly how to move.