Eyes fluttered open just in time to see the picture of her shadowy protector standing at the door, staring at her with an intensity she didn’t even know Renaissance possessed. The warmth of the dream still clung to her skin like phantom fingertips, and Lyselle wasn’t sure where the dream ended and Ren’s presence began. A smile kept to her lips, unable to do anything else, and it was as if the entire room suddenly flooded with color. She had never realized how dull everything seemed before — how grey, how lifeless — and the irony that a vampire was the one stirring such a reaction was not lost on her.

She murmured silently to herself about how she could look at Ren for hours and never tire of the sight… right as she felt the bond being tugged. A curious expression crossed her face — what was Ren looking for?

Then the bond pulled, dragging images and half-formed memories from her dreams and sending them straight into the vampiress. Lyselle half-gasped at how alive the bond seemed, as if it had its own hunger. She bit her lip gently. Ren might have felt a tinge of shame — and Lyselle empathized — but how could she ever fault someone for feeding? In truth, she was grateful for the glimpse into what it was like for the ancient. It made Ren easier to understand, easier to see as a whole rather than as a monster. Lys never saw that as a weakness.

[i]“Huntress… You’re still here…”[/i]

Reaching out slowly, Ren spoke first, giving Lyselle no chance to reassure her. The huntress offered a small, playful smile.
[color=#9BA7C3][b]“Where else would I be? Where else would I... want... to be?”[/b][/color]

She groaned internally, looking away — gods, it was impossible to [i]not[/i] be honest with this dark guardian. A huff slipped out as she mentally complained about how bothersome this golden string of fate could be, especially when she’d grown so used to burying every emotion deep inside her soul. And yet… paired with the frustration was a strange relief. A weight lifted. A freedom she had never once felt in the Vigil’s suffocating hallways.

Her gaze returned to Renaissance — and she could feel the bond humming, plucking at itself, whispering desires. Ren wanted to know her — truly know her — every fear, every joy, every vulnerable shard of her. Lyselle’s vision blurred with forming tears. Gods, how long had she waited for someone to really see her? Not the Huntress. Not the prodigy. Not the burden. Her.

She chuckled shakily as she realized she wanted to know everything about Ren just as badly — but from a different place. Not hunger. Not thirst. But a need buried so deep in her heart it scared her. She wanted to [i]please[/i] the vampire. To make her proud.

Then she blinked — and Ren was suddenly inches away.

Her heart jumped into her throat, a soft gasp escaping her as breath became something shared. Even without the bond flaring, Lyselle found herself frozen, flustered beyond reason. Ren leaned closer — so close Lyselle could smell the faint trace of another woman’s blood on her breath. One might expect revulsion — but it did nothing of the sort. If anything, it added weight to the moment. Like their breaths had become a single, heavy thread binding them together.

Ren’s mismatched eyes narrowed purposefully.

[color=#9BA7C3][i]‘f–fuck… th-this is really happening!’[/i][/color]

The thought shrieked down the bond, impossible to hide.

Lyselle was grateful the vampire maintained control of the bond’s brightness — because she certainly couldn’t right now.

[i]“Did you dream of me whilst I was gone?”[/i]

Her knees nearly buckled. A small, involuntary whine broke free. Surely Ren could hear her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

[i]“I can’t decide if this bond is the best thing to happen to us or the worst exposure of all our supposedly private thoughts…”[/i]

[color=#9BA7C3][b]"I-…"[/b][/color]

The image that shot into her mind made her eyes widen dramatically.

[color=#9BA7C3][b]“I d-didn’t—”[/b][/color]

She tried to lie — but the bond betrayed her instantly.
Her pulse spiked. Adrenaline roared. Her own mind screamed another image into the connection:

The sting of fangs at her neck.
Wet lips sealing around the wound.
Heat. Breath. Pleasure.
Bodies entwined.
Kisses stained with blood.
A shuddering release shared between them.

Her imagination betrayed her spectacularly — and Ren would feel every flicker of it.

Her pulse stuttered, then quickened wildly, the sound of it filling her own ears until all she could hear was the frantic drumbeat begging for release. Her body leaned forward before she even realized she’d moved — a tiny, helpless shift, barely an inch, but enough that their noses almost brushed. Enough that the bond hissed with approval, a bright, hungry flare that sang between them like a struck chord.

[color=#9BA7C3][i]'I shouldn’t want this…'[/i][/color]  
But she did.  
Oh, she did.

Her fingers curled against her thighs, fighting the instinct — ancient, primal, utterly foreign to her — telling her to bare her throat, to offer, to trust. It was ridiculous. Dangerous. Unthinkable. And still her chin tilted up the smallest degree, a silent, trembling surrender she didn’t consciously choose.

The look in Ren’s eyes told her the vampire noticed anyway.