Cold dread floods my veins. I rip the sheets back; frantic, searching, clawing through the bed like it might have swallowed the phone whole.
“Looking for something?” The voice slices through me.
I freeze.
Slowly—too slowly—I turn. He’s there. Morbius lounges in the armchair like he owns the place. Black suit. Perfect posture. Violet eyes glinting with something dark and entertained.
I swallow, forcing my voice steady. “No.”
A lie. “I don’t have anything with me.” I shrug, as if it doesn’t matter.
His brow lifts, slow and knowing. “Never had you down as a liar, Lilith.”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls it out. The phone. Places it carefully on the table beside him. My stomach drops.
“You can’t be trusted,” I bite, folding my arms tight across my chest.
“Apparently,” he murmurs, lips twitching, “neither can you.”
My chest betrays me; some stupid, traitorous flutter at that almost-smile. A ghost of something that used to matter. I crush it. Hard.
“If I didn’t message them, they would’ve come,” I snap. “And you’d be dust. So really, I did you a favour.”
“Oh, I don’t deny that,” he says, too easily. Too amused. Something in his tone twists unease in my gut. I ignore it.
“So,” I push, desperate to move forward, to get out, to fix this. “When do we begin?”
He blinks, like he almost forgot. Then he stands. “Oh. Right.” He pauses, exhaling a brief sigh. “Seeing your family.”
Hope surges so fast it hurts. “That’s not going to happen.” Hope dies just as quickly.
“Why?” My voice fractures into something small, barely there.
“Because it’s impossible,” he says lightly. “No vampire can shift time.”
The words don’t hit all at once. Sinking in slowly like a blade being pushed deeper. “But you said...” My throat burns, each word scraping raw. “You said…”
“Yes, yes.” He waves it off, pacing now. “I know what I said. But really, how else was I supposed to get you here? You wouldn’t have come willingly.”
Something inside me cracks.
“But the forest,” I choke. “I feel it, I feel something-.”
“You feel it because that’s where you were turned,” he cuts in. “We all do. It’s not special. It’s instinct.”
Not special. Not real. Nothing is.
My thoughts spiral, rage, grief, humiliation, crashing together. Silas warned me. Again, and again. Even when I was human.
And I still. God, I still fell for it. For him. Like a fucking Idiot.
Morbius stops pacing. Tilts his head, studying me like I’m something fragile and interesting. “Aww,” he coos. “It’s alright. Your family’s in a better place.” A dismissive flick of his hand. “And I have what I need. You’re free to go.”
Free. The word feels wrong. I scramble off the bed. “What do you mean, free to go?” He closes the distance between us in a blink; too close. His hands rise, cupping my face like something precious. His touch is gentle, achingly so. His thumb brushes my cheek like he has the right.
“You don’t have to stay,” he murmurs. “You’re free.”
The softness makes it worse. “Morbius…” My voice breaks around his name. A question. A plea. Tell me this isn’t what it sounds like. Tell me you didn’t.
