That night, Becky didn't even try to fight sleep.
She knew it would come for her anyway.
And it did.
But this time, the dream didn't wait. It swallowed her whole.
She stood again in the twilight forest, petals curling beneath her feet. The air was thicker than before.
Charged.
As if something was watching. Waiting.
And then he appeared.
The vampire.
Not from behind. Not from the shadows. This time, he stood in front of her, hands folded behind his back, calm as moonlight.
Becky didn't move. "What do you want?"
He tilted his head, eyes like smoke trapped in glass. "Still asking questions you already know the answer to."
"I don't," she snapped. "I don't know anything."
He took a slow step forward, the petals parting beneath him without a sound. "You know enough. Enough to feel it. Enough to fear it. You've already tasted it."
"I didn't drink your wine."
"No," he said, a smile curling at the edge of his mouth. "But it's not always about the drinking. Sometimes… it's about the choosing."
Becky stiffened.
He circled her now, his voice coiling around her like vines. "They never tell you that. The watchers. The ones with rules. They hide behind their silence and symbols and rituals. But me… I offer you something real."
"I don't want anything from you."
"Don't lie," he whispered near her ear. "You want answers. You want control. You want to stop waking up afraid, pretending nothing's wrong. I can give you that."
She turned sharply. "Why me?"
"Because," he said, stepping back into the shadows, "you don't belong to them yet."
The forest trembled.
And the last thing Becky heard before she woke up was his voice again, distant but sharp:
"Choose wisely, girl. The next offer won't be a question."