Chapter One

The First Night

Ethan’s eyes flickered open, the darkness around him somehow sharper, more tangible than before. For a brief moment, he didn’t move—his mind disoriented, as if he were emerging from a deep sleep. But it wasn’t just the grogginess of waking up; it was the feeling of something fundamental having shifted, something inside him that now pulsed with an unfamiliar energy.

The world around him felt different. Every sound, every scent, every flicker of movement seemed magnified, sharper than he had ever known. He could hear the faint hum of the city outside the apartment, the distant murmur of voices, the subtle creaking of wood beneath the floorboards. And the smells—rich and complex—hit him all at once: the lingering scent of rain in the air, the faint metallic tang of iron, the leather of the couch, and something sweeter, more alluring that made his breath hitch.

His body felt alive in a way it never had before—like every nerve was awake, thrumming with power. But that power felt dangerous, teetering on the edge of control. He inhaled deeply, and that sweet, intoxicating scent intensified, filling his lungs, making his mouth water.

Ethan shot up from the bed, his body reacting faster than his mind could process. His muscles moved with an unnatural grace, his senses exploding with new information all at once. Panic surged within him as the hunger gnawed at his insides, a deep, primal urge he had never felt before. His throat burned, dry and parched, as though he hadn’t had water in days. But this wasn’t thirst—this was something far more powerful, far more dangerous.

“Ethan, wait.”

Tristan’s voice cut through the haze like a lifeline, pulling Ethan out of the overwhelming sensory overload. Tristan stood at the foot of the bed, his expression calm but filled with concern. His eyes—dark and full of centuries of experience—held a quiet intensity, a mixture of pride and worry as he watched Ethan adjust to his new reality.

Ethan’s gaze snapped to Tristan, locking onto him with an intensity that surprised even himself. He could see every detail of Tristan’s face—the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the pulse of blood just beneath the surface of his skin. The sight of it, the sound of it, sent a fresh wave of hunger coursing through Ethan’s body, stronger than before. His mouth felt dry, his fangs—his fangs—throbbing as if they were demanding to be used.

“I—I don’t…” Ethan’s voice was hoarse, strained as he tried to find the words. He clutched the sheets, his knuckles white, as he fought to keep himself grounded, to push back against the primal urge rising within him. But the hunger was overwhelming, like nothing he had ever experienced. “Tristan, I—I need… something. It’s too much.”

Tristan moved closer, his expression softening as he knelt beside the bed, his hand reaching out to gently cup Ethan’s face. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice soothing. “I know it’s overwhelming. Your senses are heightened—everything feels more intense. The hunger will pass, but you have to stay calm. You’re stronger than it, Ethan. You can control this.”

Ethan shuddered, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he tried to focus on Tristan’s words. But it was difficult—so difficult—when all he could think about was the burning hunger in his throat, the way his body seemed to ache for something he couldn’t fully understand. Every sound, every scent, every beat of Tristan’s heart seemed to echo in his mind, urging him to give in, to take what he needed.

“I don’t know if I can,” Ethan whispered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. “It’s so strong… I feel like I’m losing control.”

Tristan’s grip tightened on his face, his gaze intense but filled with compassion. “You can,” he said firmly. “I’m here with you. I won’t let you lose control.”

Ethan’s eyes locked onto Tristan’s, and for a moment, the hunger subsided just enough for him to focus. He could feel the connection between them—the bond that had formed during his transformation, the unspoken understanding that they were now tied together in ways that went beyond words or blood. It was a lifeline in the chaos, something to hold onto as the storm of sensations raged inside him.

“What… what do I do?” Ethan asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Tristan’s thumb gently brushed over Ethan’s cheek, his expression softening as he spoke. “First, you breathe,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Focus on your breath. In and out. Slow, controlled.”

Ethan nodded, closing his eyes as he tried to do as Tristan instructed. He focused on the rhythm of his breathing, letting it ground him in the present moment. The hunger still gnawed at him, but the act of breathing—of concentrating on something other than the overwhelming sensations—helped to quiet it, if only for a moment.

“That’s it,” Tristan whispered, his hand still resting gently on Ethan’s face. “Now, focus on me. You can feel me, can’t you? Our connection?”

Ethan nodded again, his eyes still closed as he let himself focus on the bond between them. He could feel Tristan’s presence, strong and steady, like an anchor in the storm. It was comforting, grounding, and slowly, the panic that had gripped him began to loosen its hold.

“I’m here with you,” Tristan continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You don’t have to face this alone.”

Ethan opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Tristan’s once more. The hunger was still there, burning in his throat, but it no longer felt as overwhelming. He could think more clearly, could feel the control returning to him, bit by bit.

“I’m okay,” Ethan said softly, though his voice trembled slightly. “At least, I think I am.”

Tristan smiled, his eyes softening with pride. “You’re doing great,” he said. “This is the hardest part—the first night. Everything feels amplified, and the hunger is the strongest it will ever be. But it will get easier. You’ll learn to control it.”

Ethan swallowed hard, nodding as he tried to fully grasp the reality of his new life. He was a vampire now. This was his existence—heightened senses, the constant hunger, the weight of eternity pressing down on him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

“What… what happens now?” Ethan asked, his voice tentative.

Tristan’s smile faded slightly, his expression growing more serious as he stood, offering Ethan his hand. “Now, you learn,” he said softly. “Come with me. We’ll take this step by step. You don’t have to face the hunger alone. I’m going to teach you how to control it.”

Ethan hesitated for a moment, glancing down at his trembling hands. His body still felt strange, like it didn’t fully belong to him yet, but he trusted Tristan. He had to. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and took Tristan’s hand, the coolness of his skin grounding him once more.

As Tristan pulled him to his feet, Ethan felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. He wasn’t alone in this. He had Tristan, and together, they would face the challenges of this new existence—one night at a time.

And though the hunger still simmered beneath the surface, Ethan knew one thing for certain: he was no longer afraid.

He was ready.