*Selene*
Eros City never really sleeps—it just takes on different disguises.
By day, it's a city like any other. Glass skyscrapers tower above, glinting in the sun like mirrors, distorting everything beneath them. People rush, always rushing to be somewhere, to be someone. But at sunset, when the sun dips below the horizon and neon lights come on, the city exhales. That's when the real version emerges. The one that thrives on sin and lies. The one I belong to.
I haven't seen Julian since that night at the bar. Three days. That's how long I've managed to keep my distance, to pretend I'm strong enough to walk away.
Three nights of hunger eating away at me from the inside out. Of fantasizing about the heat of his hand, the feral way my name sounded on his lips. Of remembering the sparkle in his eyes when he said to me, *You can't push me away forever.*
He was correct.
I've been trying to forget him the way I forget all of them—by charging headfirst into the black, getting lost in the fog of hard drink, loud music, and blood that isn't attached to someone I love. But it's not working. Nothing tastes quite right anymore. Nothing fills the space.
Tonight, I call in sick to work.
Velvet Veins will survive just fine without me for one night, and I'm tired of pretending like it doesn't get to me. I prowl, then, my boots echoing hollow down the shattered streets of the Industrial District, where the warehouses huddle like forgotten giants—because they're not. Not really.
This is where the rest of us vanish. Vampires like me who won't fit the pretty-boy image the Council loves so much. The ferals. The hungry. The restless.
I should be safer here than anywhere else. But tonight, the shadows seem more oppressive. As if they're following me back.
"Selene."
I freeze in my tracks at the call of my name.
I step back and my stomach lurches. Two figures step out of the shadows. White-skinned, tall, dressed in the same black coats that cut through the wind like blades. One is Ezran—older than I am by a good hundred years. His mouth is a cold, fixed sneer.
The other is Cassia.
Elegant.
Deadly.
Council blood.
I take a step back involuntarily, my fists clenching at my sides. "What do you want?"
Cassia does not smile. "You've been careless."
I grit my teeth. "I don't know what you're referring to."
"Don't mock us," Ezran warns, his tone low and venomous. "There are rumors. A human spotted you. Touched you."
Cassia's head tilts ever so slightly. "And yet, he's still alive."
I despise how quickly they discovered. The Council has ears everywhere. Even when they don't.
"He doesn't realize what I am," I explain cautiously.
"Doesn't matter," Cassia replies. "Curiosity kills more than knowledge. Humans start to question. Questions become rumors. Rumors spread. And then we burn."
I can feel the tension between us crackle. One wrong move, and this is a fight that I will lose.
"I'll take care of it," I tell her harshly.
"You'd better," Ezran says. "Because if you don't…"
Cassia cuts him off with a glance. Her eyes lock onto me like ice. "You don't get to make mistakes, Selene. Not after what you are."
What I am.
She doesn't have to tell me. I already know.
I'm not just a vampire. I'm *different*.
My heritage is ancient, though not noble. My transformation was not sanitary. My mastery is. imperfect. I was not destined to make it this far alive. Never meant to fit in with the pack. I am a shadow in sunlight, balancing on a thread.
They fade as quick as they vanish, leaving merely the warning dangling within the atmosphere such as wisps of smoke.
I don't head home. I end up walking around aimlessly until I catch myself standing outside the college campus. Julian's territory. Some time later, my hunger shifted into something else—a force that draws me to him and one that I can't shake.
The campus remains this late. The buildings are like quiet sentinels under the moon. I know I am not supposed to be here. All my instincts are urging me to turn back. But I walk across the courtyard and follow the scent instead.
I see him sitting on a bench outside the old chapel, headphones on, sketchbook in his lap. He's wearing the same black jacket, hair hanging in front of his forehead. There's a pencil between his fingers, and he's so focused he doesn't notice me at first.
I can disappear again. Slip away as if I never were.
But I don't.
"Julian," I whisper.
He glances up, shocked at first—then relieved. "Selene."
His voice is velvet, warm and real in a world that too rarely is.
"I shouldn't be here," I say to him. "You shouldn't be near me."
He sets the sketchbook on the table. "So why are you?"
Because I couldn't stay away.
Because you looked at me and didn't run.
Because something in me breaks every time I consider your voice vanishing from my head.
I don't explain it all to him. I simply walk and sit down beside him, the distance I pretend is adequate.
"You ever feel like you're wandering through the wrong life?" I say softly.
He regards me, his expression unreadable. "All the time."
We sit quietly for a moment. The night is quiet, only wind and distant traffic. His hand is close enough to touch, and I can sense the heat radiating off him.
"I saw something that day," he says. "In the sun. Your skin."
"Shimmered," I finish, voice flat.
He nods. "And your eyes. they weren't human."
"They're not."
He looks at me again, and this time there is no fear. Only curiosity.
What are you?" he asks.
I move my head and meet his gaze, dropping the glamour for a moment. Long enough for my eyes to glow, to allow the unnatural sparkle to filter through. "Something you don't want to know."
But he doesn't flinch. "I think I already did."
"Then you're a fool."
"Perhaps," he says. "But I'm still here."
And that… that's the most perilous thing.
I don't know how to protect him from me.
From what I want.
From what others will do to him just because they know me.
"Julian," I whisper, "if you stay with me, you'll get hurt."
His eyes are so resolute. "Then let me make that choice."
He offers his hand and presses against mine once more—such that night at the bar—and I stop breathing. I must retract. I do not. His warmth invades my skin as if by sunlight pouring through broken glass. A blessing for one who deserves it not.
His thumb skates across the reverse of my palm. "You don't need to be by yourself."
I close my eyes and allow the feeling to anchor me for one beat too many.
Then I take a step back.
Because I hear the hunger stirring.
Because I hear the footsteps at midnight.
Because we are no longer alone.