The first thing Daniel noticed was the warmth.
It wrapped around him like a soft blanket, coaxing him back into consciousness. For a moment, he lay perfectly still, letting the sensation seep into his aching bones. The couch beneath him was absurdly comfortable, smelling faintly of leather and something else — something crisp, clean, almost ancient.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
The room swam into focus — a high ceiling, dim golden lighting, walls made of smooth glass. The city stretched out below him like a sea of stars. It took a moment for Daniel to remember where he was… or rather, where he wasn't.
Not in his dorm.
Not in a hospital.
Definitely not dead.
Panic licked at the edges of his mind as the memories crashed back — the alleyway, the knife, the blood, the stranger.
Daniel bolted upright, only to immediately regret it. Pain lanced through his side. He let out a low groan, clutching his ribs.
"Easy," a voice said, smooth and calm.
Daniel snapped his head around.
The man — no, the being — stood by the window, his tall figure silhouetted against the night. Those piercing blue eyes caught Daniel's and held him captive, freezing him mid-breath. His dark hair was tousled, his black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a hint of marble-smooth skin.
"You're... you're the one who..." Daniel rasped, his throat dry.
The man nodded, stepping closer, but slowly, like approaching a frightened animal.
"I saved you," he said simply. "You were dying."
Daniel's heart kicked painfully against his ribs. "How?" he whispered. "What did you do to me?"
The man tilted his head slightly, studying him with something almost like curiosity. "I gave you my blood," he said. No shame. No hesitation.
Daniel blinked. He couldn't have heard that right. "You... what?"
"My blood," the man repeated. His voice was low, steady. "It healed you."
Daniel stared at him. For a second, his mind rebelled against the obvious answer, scrabbling for something rational, something normal.
"You're—" Daniel started.
"Lucian is my name and I'm vampire," the man finished for him, almost lazily.
Daniel's world tilted. His breathing quickened. Vampire.
Vampires had been long known to society—no longer hiding in the shadows. Their existence was acknowledged by the public, but they remained elusive, living in a separate world of immense wealth and power. These elite vampires were extremely rich, with vast influence, and they lived by their own rules, rarely interfering in human affairs except when it suited their interests.
But Daniel could not understand how saving his life could suit the interest of a vampire.
He scooted back on the couch, putting a few precious feet between them.
The vampire — Lucian — smiled, but it wasn't unkind. "Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have saved you."
Daniel swallowed hard, his throat clicking.
"Why?" he croaked. "Why did you save me?"
For the first time, something flickered across Lucian's face — a crack in the perfect, emotionless mask. A shadow of discomfort, quickly smoothed over.
"Whim," Lucian said, shrugging one shoulder. "Nothing more."
Daniel didn't believe that. Not for a second. But he didn't have the strength to argue. Not yet.
"You're free to go," Lucian continued, voice softer now. "No strings attached. But..." — and here, his eyes sharpened, turning cold — "you must never tell anyone about this. About me giving you my blood. Ever."
Daniel nodded automatically, his head buzzing. "I won't. I swear."
Lucian's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, as if weighing his soul. Then he nodded, satisfied.
"Good."
Silence stretched between them. Daniel realized with a jolt that he was still dressed in his bloodstained clothes.
He shifted awkwardly. "Um... where am I?"
"My home," Lucian said simply. "My penthouse."
Daniel let his eyes wander, taking in the sleek furniture, the dim lamps, the rich rugs. It was elegant, but not sterile. Lived-in. Strange. He hadn't expected that.
"How do I leave?" he asked, voice small.
Lucian smiled — a ghost of a smile. "I'll call for a car. It'll take you anywhere you need to go."
Daniel hesitated. Part of him — the rational, screaming part — told him to get out of there immediately. But another part, deep and insistent, whispered to stay. Stay a little longer. Ask a little more.
He shook his head, clearing the fog.
"I'll go now," Daniel muttered, pushing himself to his feet. His body protested, but he managed to stay upright.
Lucian moved toward the door, opening it with a soft click. "If you need anything," he said, his voice quieter now, almost... reluctant, "you can find me."
Daniel paused in the doorway. The city lights framed Lucian's figure in a halo of silver and gold. He looked like a fallen star.
"I won't need anything," Daniel said, but even as he spoke, part of him felt like he was lying.
Lucian didn't argue. He simply nodded once, slowly, almost sadly.
Right after stepping into the private elevator, Daniel looked at Lucian and said, " I'm Daniel, by the way. Thank you for saving my life."
And then doors slid shut between them with a soft hiss.
As he descended, Daniel pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady drumbeat of his heart.
Alive.
Because of him.
Because of Lucian.
Outside, the city welcomed him with cold air and flickering streetlights.
Daniel wrapped his arms around himself and got into the car already waiting for him downstairs.
The night pressed in close around him.
He thought about the blood — about the vampire — about those eyes like frozen oceans.
He told himself to forget.
But somewhere deep inside, he already knew:
Lucian wasn't someone you could forget. Not ever.