Chapter One

Echoes of the Past

The coastline stretched out before Ethan, a long expanse of golden sand that glistened under the setting sun. The horizon, where the sky met the ocean, shimmered in shades of orange, pink, and violet, the fading light casting a warm glow over the water. Waves rolled in and out, their gentle crash a steady hum in the background. It was the kind of evening that invited peace, the kind of serenity he and Tristan had longed for.

Ethan stood at the edge of the cliff, his eyes scanning the endless expanse of the sea, but his mind was far from peaceful. The coastal air, which should have been invigorating, felt heavy, as though the weight of everything he had been through still clung to him like an unwanted cloak. His body remained tense, a quiet unease pulsing through him as the ocean breeze tousled his hair.

From anyone else's perspective, this should have been paradise. The small, quiet coastal town they had chosen as their refuge was far removed from the chaos of the city, far from the vampires and dark forces that had once dominated their lives. Here, there were no rogue vampires lurking in the shadows, no powerful enemies seeking to destroy them, no cursed bloodlines that needed to be managed. It was a clean slate.

At least, it should have been.

Ethan took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty air, but the tension in his chest refused to ease. Even as the sea spread out before him, so vast and seemingly endless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking just beyond the horizon. The sense of dread was subtle, like a whisper in the back of his mind, but it was there. Always there.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves, the smell of saltwater, the feel of the wind on his skin. But no matter how hard he tried, the unease lingered, refusing to let him sink into the tranquility of the moment.

“Still brooding?”

The familiar voice broke through his thoughts, and Ethan opened his eyes, turning to see Tristan approaching from behind. Tristan's expression was a mixture of amusement and concern, his blue eyes sharp and knowing, as though he could read Ethan’s every thought. The man had a way of doing that—seeing right through him, even when Ethan tried to keep his feelings hidden.

“Not brooding,” Ethan muttered, turning his gaze back to the horizon. “Just thinking.”

Tristan raised an eyebrow as he came to stand beside him, his shoulder brushing lightly against Ethan’s. “You’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

Ethan let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t know. It’s just... something feels off.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he followed Ethan’s gaze out to sea. “Off how?”

“I can’t explain it.” Ethan shook his head, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s like, ever since we defeated Lazarus and destroyed the Heart of Darkness, I’ve been waiting for something else to happen. Like this... this weight that won’t go away. It’s been months, Tristan, and I still feel it. I still feel like something’s coming.”

Tristan was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processed Ethan’s words. The waves crashed below them, filling the quiet with their rhythmic sound, but it did little to ease the tension in the air. Tristan had always been the more pragmatic of the two—steady, calm, unshakable. He had lived for centuries, after all, and had seen more than Ethan could ever imagine.

Ethan, on the other hand, had only been a vampire for a short time. His transformation had come with its own set of challenges, but the weight of immortality was not what troubled him. It was something deeper, something older than either of them, lurking just beyond the edge of his consciousness.

“You think it’s something more?” Tristan finally asked, his voice soft but serious.

Ethan nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

That night, Ethan lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the soft rhythm of Tristan’s breathing beside him. The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. Outside, the ocean continued its eternal dance, the waves a soothing backdrop to the stillness of the night. It should have been comforting.

But Ethan’s mind was far from calm.

Sleep had become a rarity for him in recent weeks. Every time he closed his eyes, the same unsettling dreams came to haunt him—dreams that felt too vivid, too real to be mere nightmares. In these dreams, he was always alone, standing in a vast expanse of darkness. Shadows moved around him, shifting and whispering in a language he couldn’t understand. They were ancient, these voices, and though he couldn’t decipher their words, he knew they were speaking to him. Calling to him.

And always, in the distance, there was a figure. A figure shrouded in darkness, watching him, waiting.

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the images away, but the tension in his chest only grew. He turned onto his side, his body instinctively seeking Tristan’s warmth, but even as he nestled closer, the unease remained.

“I see them, too.”

The voice—whispered, low, and distorted—seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Ethan’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up quickly, scanning the room, but there was nothing. Just him, Tristan, and the quiet night.

Ethan’s breath came in shallow gasps as he tried to steady himself. The voice had been so clear, so close. But the room was empty, save for Tristan, who remained asleep beside him. Slowly, Ethan swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor.

He stood and walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside to peer out at the moonlit ocean. The waves glistened under the soft light, their gentle ebb and flow a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in his mind. But as he gazed out at the horizon, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out there. Watching. Waiting.

“You’re not alone.”

The voice again—soft, insidious, and unmistakably real. Ethan’s body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to run, to fight, to do something. But there was nothing to fight. No one to run from.

It was just him. And the voice.

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as a wave of frustration washed over him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a dream. He knew that now. Something—someone—was reaching out to him. And whatever it was, it wasn’t finished with him yet.

The next morning, Ethan sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee as the early morning sunlight streamed through the windows. Tristan was sitting across from him, flipping through an old book—one of the many ancient texts he had collected over the centuries. It was a quiet, peaceful morning. The kind of morning that should have made Ethan feel content.

But the tension from the night before lingered, gnawing at him, refusing to let go.

“Ethan,” Tristan said, his voice cutting through the silence. “You didn’t sleep again.”

It wasn’t a question. Tristan knew him too well to pretend otherwise.

Ethan sighed, setting his coffee cup down and rubbing his temples. “No. I didn’t.”

Tristan closed the book and leaned forward, his blue eyes locked on Ethan’s. “You need to talk to me. What’s going on?”

Ethan hesitated, his mind racing. He had been trying to avoid this conversation for weeks, not wanting to burden Tristan with his fears. But he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. Not after last night.

“There’s something... something happening,” Ethan began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been having these dreams. Or maybe they’re visions. I don’t know. But they’re always the same. I’m standing in the dark, and there are these... voices. They’re speaking to me, but I can’t understand them. And there’s this figure, watching me. I don’t know who it is, but I can feel it. It’s waiting for me.”

Tristan’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “How long has this been happening?”

“A few weeks,” Ethan admitted. “It started not long after we defeated Lazarus. At first, I thought it was just... I don’t know, leftover trauma from everything. But it’s getting worse. The voice—I heard it last night. It was like it was in the room with me.”

Tristan leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Ethan looked down at his hands, guilt twisting in his stomach. “I didn’t want to worry you. We’ve been through so much already, and I thought maybe it would just... go away.”

Tristan was silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he processed what Ethan had told him. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “We need to figure out what this is. If it’s connected to the Heart of Darkness or Lazarus, we can’t ignore it.”

Ethan nodded, though the knot of unease in his chest tightened. “I know. But I don’t think it’s Lazarus. This... whatever it is, it feels different. Older.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “Older than Lazarus?”

Ethan shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But it feels like it’s been waiting for a long time. And now, it’s reaching out to me.”

For the rest of the day, the conversation between them lingered in the air, unspoken but ever-present. Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that he had dragged them both into something far more dangerous than he had ever imagined. Tristan’s calm demeanor did little to ease his nerves, though he knew Tristan was doing everything he could to hold things together. They were a team—partners—and they had faced the darkest of horrors before.

But this time, it felt different.

Late that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the cool night breeze swept through the house, Tristan finally broke the silence.

“We need to go back,” he said, his voice steady but determined.

Ethan looked up from the book he had been reading, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Go back? Back where?”

“To the archives,” Tristan replied, his gaze unwavering. “If this is tied to something ancient—something older than Lazarus—then we need to find out what it is. The vampire archives have records going back centuries. If there’s any clue about what’s happening, it’ll be there.”

Ethan hesitated, the thought of returning to the vampire world filling him with a sense of dread. They had left that life behind for a reason. They had wanted peace, to escape the constant danger that came with being vampires in a world filled with power struggles and ancient prophecies.

But as he looked into Tristan’s eyes, he knew they didn’t have a choice.

“You’re right,” Ethan said softly, his voice filled with resignation. “We have to go back.”

Tristan nodded, standing up and moving toward him. He placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, his touch firm but comforting. “We’ll figure this out. Whatever it is, we’ll face it. Together.”

Ethan nodded, though the weight of what lay ahead pressed heavily on his chest. The shadows of the past were creeping closer, and whatever darkness was coming, they couldn’t outrun it.

As they stood together in the quiet of the night, Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that their battle was far from over.

The echoes of the past had returned.