Chapter 33: Chapter 33 - A Fool’s Courage
The moonlight spilled into the castle gardens, casting silvery shadows over the twisting vines and delicate blossoms. It was a strange sort of tranquility, Eira thought as she wandered aimlessly, her fingers brushing over the petals of a pale rose. She tried to lose herself in the stillness, to pretend the cold air could soothe the turmoil inside her. But it was futile. Her mind churned with the memory of Caius's hands on her, his voice, low and fierce, declaring what she already knew but could barely admit to herself.
He was in her blood now, quite literally, but it was more than that. More than the bond. He consumed her thoughts, leaving her restless and raw in ways she couldn't understand. She hated it, the vulnerability he dragged out of her—how easily he could leave her feeling exposed. But what she hated more was the distance he always put between them afterward, like he couldn't bear the weight of her existence.
"You're impossible," she muttered to herself, her voice a soft whisper against the night.
"Am I?"
The deep, smooth voice startled her. Eira spun around, her heart leaping into her throat as she saw Caius standing a few paces away. The shadows seemed to cling to him, his golden eyes catching the faint light like a predator's. How someone so large could move so silently, she'd never understand.
And just like that, the quiet she had sought was gone, replaced by the tension that always seemed to follow him. She felt it in the way her pulse quickened, her skin tingling with awareness of his presence. She despised it—how easily he unraveled her composure just by standing there.
"Do you make a habit of lurking in the dark?" she asked, crossing her arms to hide the way her chest tightened at the sight of him.
"Only when I'm thinking," he said, stepping closer. His movements were unhurried, almost languid, but there was a tension in his frame that belied the calm he projected. "And you seem to give me much to think about, Eira."
Eira huffed, turning away before he could see the flush creeping up her neck. "I don't want to fight with you, Caius. Not tonight."
"Neither do I," he said, surprising her. His tone was softer than she'd expected, almost… weary. "But you seem to have a knack for finding my weaknesses."
She froze, her hand hovering over a rosebud. "Weaknesses?"
"Don't pretend you don't know," he said, his voice tinged with something she couldn't quite place—accusation, perhaps, or vulnerability. "You're too clever for that."
Eira turned to face him, her brow furrowed. "I'm not trying to—"
"Aren't you?" he interrupted, his gaze sharp. "You push, Eira. Always pushing, always demanding more. Do you even realize what you're asking of me?"
Her lips parted, but no words came. It was as if he could see through her, straight to the heart of what she didn't want to admit. That she did push. That every time she reached for him, it wasn't just because of the bond.
But it wasn't only him she pushed against—it was herself. The walls she had spent years building to keep others out now felt flimsy, crumbling under the weight of her need to prove to him, to herself, that she could bear whatever this was. That she could stand beside him without faltering.
"What am I asking, Caius?" she managed finally, her voice soft but steady. "Tell me."
His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as though the words themselves were a burden. "You want me to let you in," he said finally, his voice low. "To show you parts of myself that I've buried for centuries. You don't understand what that means."
"Then help me understand," she said, taking a step closer. "You told me to trust you, Caius. Why won't you trust me?"
Her own words rang in her ears, and for a fleeting moment, she wanted to take them back. What would she do if he did trust her? If he showed her the full weight of what he carried, what he'd done? Could she shoulder it without breaking?
For a long moment, he said nothing. The tension between them was palpable, the quiet night pressing in on all sides. Caius's eyes searched hers, as if looking for something he wasn't sure he wanted to find.
"Because trusting you means losing control," he said at last. "And I can't afford that."
The truth hit her like a blow, even though she'd suspected it. Of course, Caius craved control—it was woven into the very fabric of who he was. But hearing him admit it so plainly, as though it was some immutable law, sent a pang through her chest.
"You think control is more important than letting yourself feel something real?" she asked, the frustration in her voice belying the ache beneath it.
"Yes," he said without hesitation, his voice like steel. "Because control is the only thing that's kept me alive this long. It's the only thing that's kept everyone else alive."
Her breath hitched. "Everyone else." As if he hadn't been alone for centuries, cutting himself off from the world. She wanted to shake him, to make him see what he refused to acknowledge. "You don't have to live like this, Caius," she said quietly. "Not anymore."
He shook his head, his expression a mix of exasperation and something deeper, darker. "You don't understand, Eira. This isn't about living. It's about surviving."
"And is that all you want? To survive?" she pressed. "Or are you just too afraid to want more?"
The words left her before she could stop them, and the silence that followed felt deafening. Caius's eyes burned with intensity, his gaze locking onto hers with a force that made her pulse race. She knew she'd gone too far, but she didn't care. Someone had to say it.
"Maybe it's time you let someone share that burden," she said, her voice softening. "You don't have to do this alone, Caius."
His lips curved into a humorless smile. "Do you really think you're strong enough to carry what I've done? What I am?"
Eira's chest tightened, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Maybe not," she admitted. "But I'm strong enough to stand with you."
He looked at her then, and the vulnerability in his eyes stole her breath. She saw it—the man beneath the weight of centuries, the man who'd built walls so high and so thick he couldn't see over them anymore. And in that moment, she didn't care if she wasn't strong enough. She wanted to try anyway.
"Eira," he said, her name a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "You make me feel alive in a way I haven't in centuries. And that terrifies me."
Her breath caught, and she didn't try to hide it. She felt the fear too, the way the bond between them made everything too sharp, too raw. But she wasn't going to run from it. Not now.
"Why does it terrify you?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"Because it makes me question everything," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "Who I am. What I've become. What I could become if I let myself care for you."
The words hit her with the force of a tidal wave, and she struggled to keep her voice steady. "Maybe it's time you started questioning," she said. "Because I'm not afraid of who you might become, Caius. I'm only afraid of losing you before you even let me see who you are."
For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching hers with a vulnerability that left her breathless. Then, slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, his golden eyes never leaving hers. She caressed his jaw line with her thumb.
"You're a fool, Eira," he murmured, his voice rough. "But perhaps I am too."
Before she could respond, he stepped back, his expression shuttering once more. "Go inside, Eira," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "It's getting cold."
"Caius—" she began, but he shook his head.
"Please," he said quietly, the word carrying a weight she couldn't ignore. "I need… time."
Reluctantly, Eira nodded, her chest tight as she turned and walked away. Each step felt heavier than the last, her heart pulling her back toward him even as her mind warned her not to linger. She didn't look back, afraid that if she did, she might never leave.
As she stepped into the castle's warm glow, the cold from the garden seemed to follow her, settling deep in her bones. Her fingers brushed absently against her neck where the faint scars of his fangs lingered, a reminder of their connection—and his restraint.
But something else prickled at her senses, faint yet persistent. She paused in the corridor, her gaze flicking toward the darkened windows that lined the walls. The faint murmur of the wind seemed… wrong somehow, carrying with it a tension she couldn't quite name. A shiver crawled up her spine, and she shook it off, chalking it up to the emotional storm still churning inside her.
Ahead, the shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, their edges sharp and restless. The familiar halls of the castle felt colder than usual, as though the fortress itself was holding its breath. Eira frowned, her steps slowing as a faint sound—barely more than a whisper—drifted from somewhere deeper within the castle grounds.
A low growl? No, it was likely just the wind. Or perhaps her frayed nerves were conjuring dangers where there were none. Yet she couldn't shake the sensation, her hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath her skirts. Caius's voice echoed faintly in her mind—You don't understand the risks.
She shook it off, her mind drifting back to Caius. Something had shifted between them tonight. She could feel it as surely as the bond thrumming faintly beneath her skin, a constant, inescapable thread tying them together. It should have reassured her, this undeniable proof that she wasn't alone in what she felt. Instead, it left her uncertain, uneasy.
She stopped at the base of the grand staircase, her gaze drawn to the flickering shadows that stretched along the walls. The castle felt impossibly vast and empty tonight, its quiet a stark contrast to the storm raging in her chest.
Caius was unraveling, she realized, in ways neither of them fully understood. And though she had promised herself she was strong enough to bear it, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered that this unraveling could take them both down with him.
For the first time, she wasn't sure if stepping closer to Caius would save him—or destroy them both.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
JadedButCute
JadedButCute This chapter, huh? Caius and Eira really said, “Let’s mix yearning, angst, and emotional avoidance into a perfect storm,” and honestly, I’m just along for the ride. Writing these two is like trying to untangle a very complicated, very messy knot—and instead of making progress, you accidentally make it worse (but also… better?).
Can we take a moment for Eira, though? She’s standing there with her heart wide open, practically yelling, “Hey, I’m here, maybe let me in?” Meanwhile, Caius is over in his corner like, “Feelings? Never heard of them.” And yet, he keeps circling back to her anyway. Classic emotionally constipated vampire behavior.
What do you think? Are you screaming at Caius to get it together, or is Eira the one making you want to shake her? Either way, buckle up—things are only going to get messier from here. Let me know your thoughts!
Like it ? Add to library！:)
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone