Jeremiah remained on the rooftop long after the city quieted and the horizon began to pale.
Meditation had replaced his thoughts, mana flowing through him in a steady rhythm. By the time the first rays of sunlight crested over BayPort's skyline, his core felt half full and his body restored. The lingering aches and fatigue had vanished; his vampiric regeneration did not waste time.
As warmth settled across his skin, the rooftop door clicked open behind him. He didn't turn—he didn't need to. He could feel her stare.
"There you are," Mariah said, her voice carrying a calm, early-morning sharpness. It confirmed his guess; even after only a day, he recognized her steady, confident cadence. It reminded him of his master.
Jeremiah kept his eyes closed. "You're up early."
"You've been here all night?" she asked, her tone tinged with quiet curiosity.
He opened his eyes slowly, letting the morning light settle in. Instead of standing, he shifted out of his posture and slid forward, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He leaned back on his palms, still facing the city. "I couldn't sleep. Besides, I've had enough rest."
As Mariah stepped closer, the faint scent of jasmine and lotion drifted toward him, strangely calming the turmoil in his mind. She studied him for a moment before looking out at the horizon, a sense of quiet amazement settling over her as the city stretched beneath them.
Jeremiah patted the space beside him. "Come sit. It's a nice view."
After a brief, unreadable look, she took the seat. Jeremiah's shoulders stiffened. Wasn't she sitting a little too close? He kept his gaze fixed on the skyline, trying to hide the faint flush creeping up his neck.
Luckily, she didn't seem to notice.
He took the chance to observe her. The morning light caught the edges of her short black hair, and her golden-brown eyes—sharpened by the subtle sheen of her glasses—reflected the city below. Even relaxed, she held a natural elegance. When she turned toward him, her lips parted slightly before she spoke.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I can see why you chose this place."
A comfortable silence stretched between them until she spoke again. "You know, Jeremiah… growing up, I had only one goal: to show my grandmother she could trust me as her successor." She offered a half-smile. "It sounds short-sighted now. I was arrogant—pretentious. Being from House Ardent, I had every advantage, and my grandmother trained me personally."
Jeremiah stayed silent, sensing she wasn't finished.
A quiet, bitter laugh escaped her. "When she told me about the unit she was creating, I thought… "this is my chance to prove myself"." Her eyes locked onto his, searching for something. Jeremiah didn't look away; he felt intuitively that this moment mattered.
"For a long time, I thought earning her approval was enough," she continued, her voice softening as her jaw tightened. "I told myself that was ambition. But lately… I'm not so sure. I don't know if I want to lead because it's expected, or because I actually want it. I don't know if I joined this unit to grow, or just to finally be seen."
She glanced back at him. "What do you fight for, Jeremiah?"
Jeremiah's gaze stayed on the skyline. "I refuse to be weak," he said firmly. "Where I grew up, weakness wasn't tolerated. If you couldn't fight, you wouldn't last." He paused, his tone detached but even. "But I also learned that strength without purpose is just power that destroys more than it protects. It leaves you empty. There is always something or someone stronger; if power is all you rely on, you'll eventually lose."
He shifted, his legs swaying idly over the edge. "I believe in will. If your will is strong enough, you'll reach your goal, even if it means pushing past what the world thinks you're allowed to become." He finally turned to her, offering a small smile. "But like you, I don't have a set goal yet. What do you say we figure it out together?"
Mariah smiled back, a spark returning to her eyes. "Together, huh? Seems like I'll be stuck with you for a while. So yeah… let's find it together."
She held out her fist. Jeremiah bumped it gently. "Deal."
Mariah checked her Ardent Optics and began to rise. "Time to go. I'll head down and get the car ready. The girls should be set by now."
"I'm ready," Jeremiah nodded.
"See you in fifteen. Main entrance." She headed for the door, leaving him alone in the cool morning air.
He lingered for a moment, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He thought about her resolve, her pride, and the doubt she hid so well. He was glad he'd come up here.
Rising, he stretched the tension from his shoulders and scanned the street below. Seeing no one, he stepped off the edge. He dropped silently, a soft shift of mana redirecting his descent at the last second. He touched the side wall and stepped onto the pavement as if he'd simply taken the stairs.
A few minutes later, Jeremiah stood near the entrance, lost in thought, until a sudden bump jolted him.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Tessa grinned. "First one down? I hope you don't snore during the ride."
Jeremiah scowled faintly before smoothing his expression and lifting his chin. "I've been up for a while, and I do not snore. In fact, I've been told I have a very handsome sleeping face."
No one had ever actually told Jeremiah he had a handsome sleeping face, a fact Tessa's expression made painfully clear. She stared at him, entirely unimpressed, until his scowl returned.
Before he could snap back, Nyx stepped up behind her. "Good morning, Jeremiah," she said softly. "And… sorry we left the mess in your room."
Jeremiah froze. The memory of the boxes, the wrappers, and the absolute betrayal resurfaced instantly. His gaze slid toward Tessa, deepening into a glare. Tessa immediately looked away, studying the sky as if it had personally wronged her.
This girl has no shame, he thought dryly.
Turning back to Nyx, his expression eased.
"Good morning, Saintess. After yesterday… I hope you slept well."
Nyx nodded. "I appreciate the concern, but it would take more than some creepy cult members to best me." There was a quiet firmness in her tone—not arrogance, but a steady conviction that made the corner of Jeremiah's mouth lift. He liked her spirit.
For the first time that morning, he really looked at them.
Tessa stood with a magnetic grace, her white hair spilling over her shoulders like raw silk. The dark fabric of her top highlighted the soft curves of her chest and the elegant slope of her shoulders, while her shorts emphasized the bold, rounded line of her hips. With the morning light catching her silver hoops, she looked effortlessly statuesque.
Nyx was a composed contrast, a picture of soft elegance in a pale sundress. The light fabric skimmed her bust and flowed over her hips, clinging momentarily to her legs as the breeze caught the hem. The sunlight turned her dark hair into a shimmering lavender halo, drawing the eye to the deep, haunting violet of her eyes.
Jeremiah grinned. "My, my. You ladies clean up well. I dare say you both look absolutely stunning."
The compliment landed like a physical weight. Both girls froze. Nyx's cheeks flushed instantly, and she ducked her head, whispering a soft "thank you." Tessa blinked twice before a slow, unguarded smile spread across her face.
"Well," Tessa said, brushing a hand through her hair, "I mean… yeah. I clean up pretty well. Thanks."
It was honest appreciation, and Jeremiah's grin softened. Compliments, it seemed, were surprisingly effective weapons.
"About time," Tessa muttered as a nondescript black SUV rolled into the drive. Mariah was behind the wheel, watching them with a faint, mischievous glint in her golden-brown eyes.
"Get in," she commanded.
As they merged into the morning traffic, the radio murmured in the background. Jeremiah glanced at Mariah. "So, where exactly are we going?"
"It's a surprise," Mariah replied. "A little villa my grandmother prepared for us."
Tessa snorted from the back. "When rich people say 'little,' it never actually means little."
She was right. As the city thinned and the coastal road climbed uphill, the scenery shifted from practical to opulent. Designer storefronts and luxury models replaced the everyday bustle of BayPort. They approached a tall iron gate guarded by uniformed men, and as the "villa" came into view, Jeremiah's jaw went slack.
The structure was three levels of pristine white stone against the coastal sky. Teal double doors stood out against the façade, framed by symmetrical palm trees and immaculate landscaping. It wasn't a villa; it was a fortress of luxury.
"You undersold this," Jeremiah muttered, scowling when he saw Mariah trying to hide a smirk.
"It'll be our home for the foreseeable future," she said calmly as the engine cut. "Try not to act like tourists."
Tessa was out of the car before she finished, vibrating with excitement. Nyx followed, smoothing her sundress as her eyes swept over the towering building. Her gaze eventually drifted to Jeremiah.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking unfairly comfortable. The breeze caught his dark hair, framing a face that was genuinely handsome.
Nyx's chest tightened as her eyes drifted lower despite herself. She traced the way his fitted black shirt stretched across his chest, outlining a lean strength that didn't need to be flaunted to be felt. Even in simple dark sweats, he carried himself with an effortlessconfidence—relaxed, casual, and completely at ease.
Nyx's heart stuttered when those sleepy grey eyes finally flickered toward her. She jerked her gaze back toward the villa, pulse racing as she pretended she hadn't been staring at all.
Without ceremony, Mariah began walking toward the entrance.
The others followed, but Jeremiah lingered for a final moment, taking in the salt air and the towering white stone. He exhaled softly, a quiet breath of acceptance, before stepping forward to join them.
...Guess this is home.