Artemis woke up alone in bed. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, looking around. There was food on the bedside table — but no sign of Alexander. She blinked, then got off the bed and headed into the bathroom to bathe.
Artemis wasn't sure what slaves or pets were supposed to do, but she felt like she wasn't really doing anything. Yesterday had been the first time he fed on her, and he had almost killed her. She huffed, touching her neck where the two bite marks were barely visible beneath her fingers.
She sighed, hugging her knees in the bath. Her face flushed as memories flooded back — the kiss, the way she felt, and how her mind refused to think of anything else except his lips on her skin. She muffled a squeal and buried her face against her knees.
After bathing, she returned to the room and noticed a bag placed on the bed, as always. She smiled. She hadn't even heard the door — too lost in her inner turmoil.
"Lady Priscilla is really nice," she giggled softly, but couldn't shake the anxiety she felt around the woman. That calm smile… those piercing red eyes that seemed to see into one's very soul. She exhaled slowly and got dressed.
Then she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door.
"Where did he go?" she muttered, then shook her head.
"Hmph. Who cares? He almost sucked me dry," she grumbled.
She picked up the tray of food and opened the lid. Her eyes widened at the sight of a bowl of strawberries.
How did he— no, it must be a coincidence, she thought quickly, shaking it off before beginning to eat.
Afterward, she exhaled contentedly, rubbing her stomach. The food was great. She wanted to visit the kitchen one day, but doubted Alexander would allow it — and Cleopatra might take the opportunity to pick on her again.
Feeling restless, Artemis walked onto the balcony and stretched. The fresh morning breeze brushed her face and hair. She placed her hand on the railing and gazed into the forest behind the mansion — and froze.
Something moved.
She blinked and squinted, but whatever it was had disappeared. A black blur — like a shadow weaving through the trees.
Rubbing her eyes, she looked again.
This time, she gasped.
"A wolf?" she whispered. It was fast — almost too fast to see.
Suddenly, the tattoo under her collarbone throbbed painfully.
---
Meanwhile, downstairs:
Alexander felt a small shiver run down his spine. He glanced toward the stairs leading to his room, frowning, before returning to his meal. Breakfast had started horribly. He had left early before Artemis woke up — afraid of doing something he would regret. This hunger… it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His fangs throbbed.
And then his morning got worse.
Christine Silver arrived.
Her bright face, red lips, and long red hair filled his line of sight as she entered the dining hall. He scowled.
"Alexander, look who's here to see you," his mother said brightly, leading Christine to a seat. Christine blushed as she smiled at him. He merely glanced at her and sat down.
"You didn't tell me Christine was coming for breakfast," he said, raising an eyebrow at Dichelle.
"Well, you didn't let me finish yesterday before you stormed off," Dichelle replied, focusing on her food.
After a heavy silence, Christine spoke up, pouting sweetly.
"It's been a month since I've seen you. I decided to visit. You weren't home yesterday," she said, batting her lashes at him.
Alexander sipped his wine, smiling thinly. Christine's heart skipped.
"My apologies. I've been quite busy. It seems you, however, have a lot of time on your hands, my lady," he said coolly.
Christine's eye twitched, but she kept smiling. She would take any crumbs he offered her.
Cleopatra, sensing an opportunity, smirked.
"That's right. Big brother's been busy with his new pet—"
"And also with council matters," Priscilla cut in smoothly, sipping her wine and staring pointedly at Cleopatra over the rim of her glass. Cleopatra froze, shrinking back to her plate.
Christine blinked, her smile faltering.
"Her?" she asked quietly.
Weeks ago, she had heard rumors about a senior councilman purchasing a slave for an outrageous sum. She had assumed it was her brother, Lexus. But hearing Cleopatra now...
No one was going to take Alexander Quinn from her. No one.
Christine forced a smile.
"Uhm... Alexander... about my party—"
He raised an eyebrow at her, then stood with a lazy smile.
"Don't worry. I'll be there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to take care of. Safe trip home, my lady."
Christine watched him go, biting her lip in frustration.
---
Alexander entered his room and sighed.
He looked toward the bed — but it was empty.
"Bunny?" he called softly.
A strange sensation prickled along his spine. He frowned and headed toward the balcony.
"Artemis?" he called again.
She turned slowly to face him — and his breath caught.
Artemis was glowing.
Her entire figure was wrapped in a shimmering blue-white light. She walked closer — and suddenly, blue flames erupted around her arms and legs, her hair floating weightlessly in all directions.
Alexander stared, stunned. He had seen countless supernatural creatures in his lifetime — but nothing like this.
The tattoo under her collarbone pulsed and expanded, wrapping around her wrist in spiraling red and blue flames.
She stepped closer — the flames licking toward him — but they were cold. Like a whisper of winter wind brushing his skin.
And then she spoke — in a voice that was hers, yet layered with three distinct feminine tones:
"Just like chaos and order, one cannot exist without the other.
They are two sides of the same coin."
She reached out, her cold hand pressing gently to the side of his face. He remained still, mesmerized.
"The flames grow brighter as the other draws near.
They can never be separated.
Till eternity, they shall remain, as ordained by the blue moon."
As the last word left her lips, the flames vanished.
Artemis collapsed forward — and Alexander caught her instantly.
He exhaled shakily.
"What was… that?" he muttered, placing her gently on the bed.
His sharp gaze swept over her, stopping at the ring of intertwined red and blue flames now encircling her wrist.
His eyes narrowed.
"What are you, Artemis?" he whispered, brushing a strand of her hair aside.
He leaned closer — but just then, she gasped, her eyes snapping open.
He pulled back, smiling lazily to mask his turmoil.
"I feel like you spend most of your time sleeping, little bunny," he teased, resting his head on his hand.
She blushed and looked away.
"I felt tired after eating, so I decided to nap."
Alexander's smile faltered.
She didn't remember?
He studied her carefully.
"Is something wrong, master?" she asked, confused by his intense stare.
He smiled reassuringly.
"Nothing. Where did you say you were from again?"
"Phoenix," she answered.
He hummed thoughtfully, hiding his inner confusion.
I'll need to take her to the White Priestess soon, he thought. If she doesn't even remember what happened, she might not even be aware of what she truly is.
Artemis tilted her head, giving him that familiar wide-eyed look — part confusion, part suspicion. He found himself staring at her: those vivid blue eyes, her long lashes, the soft curve of her lips.
He cleared his throat abruptly and stood.
He needed to get away from her.
His hunger was growing — and it was a dangerous, unfamiliar thing.