Elena couldn't breathe.
The air in the diner had turned thick, clinging to her skin like smoke. Dorian's gaze was a vice, pinning her in place with the weight of everything unsaid between them. Her fingers trembled at her sides, but she didn't move—not yet.
Behind her, Miles shifted, stepping forward like a human shield. "Don't come any closer," he said, voice low and rough. "This is your last warning."
Dorian didn't even flinch. His eyes never left Elena. "Still pretending you matter, Miles? Still clinging to a fantasy where you can rewrite her fate?" A pause. A smile. "Admirable. Pointless."
Vivienne let out a soft, amused sigh. "Let them have their moment, Dorian. It won't change what's coming."
Elena's heart pounded so hard it hurt. She wanted to scream, to force everyone out, to erase the past ten minutes from existence. But that was impossible. The truth was out. Her aunt. The Hollow Man. Her own bloodline.
She wasn't just in danger.
She was the danger.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice sharper now. Not a whisper. A demand.
Dorian took another step forward, slow and deliberate. "I want what was always promised. What your blood was crafted for. You were never meant to live in the light, Elena. You belong in the dark—with me."
A crack sounded.
Miles had drawn a blade from beneath his coat, silver and sharp. It gleamed under the flickering diner lights. "If you touch her, I'll kill you."
Dorian's expression remained maddeningly calm. "You think that piece of metal will stop me?"
But Elena wasn't listening to them anymore. Her mind spiraled inward, back to the nights she couldn't sleep. The dreams of a forest bathed in black flame. A voice whispering her name from within the shadows. Her reflection flickering in the mirror, eyes not her own.
Had it always been him?
A memory surfaced—her father's voice, hushed and frantic:
"If he ever finds you… run."
She had run. For years. But the truth had always followed.
"Why me?" she asked, her voice trembling despite herself. "Why not someone else?"
Vivienne stepped closer, tilting her head. "Because you're the last. The final piece. The bloodline ends with you, Elena. And that means everything begins with you too."
"You're lying," Elena snapped. "You're trying to scare me into—into becoming something I'm not."
"No," Dorian said softly. "We're trying to wake you up."
Something cracked in her chest. Not pain. Not quite. It felt like something old shifting—something buried.
The wind outside howled suddenly, rattling the diner windows. The lights flickered.
And then the floor beneath them shuddered.
Vivienne's eyes lit with triumph. "He's near."
Miles grabbed Elena's hand. "We have to go. Now."
But Dorian didn't move to stop them. He only watched her, something almost… mournful in his expression.
"You can run, Elena," he said, voice nearly a whisper. "But your blood will call you back. It always does."
The ground trembled again, stronger this time. Plates slid off the counters. A deep rumble echoed from beneath the earth, a sound like something ancient stirring in its sleep.
Elena had to make a choice.
Run with Miles and pretend—for a little longer—that she could fight destiny.
Or stay.
And finally understand what she really was.
Her pulse thundered. Her breath caught.
And then—
She turned.
Toward the door.
Toward the dark.