Scarlett absently twirled her pen between her fingers, trying to focus on the chemistry formulas Mr. Peterson was writing on the board. But her mind kept drifting to Lucien, like a compass needle always finding north. A week. He'd been gone for a whole week, and though she tried to tell herself everything was fine, the nightmares hadn't stopped.
Every night they came – visions of Lucien standing before ancient vampires in a dark chamber, their eyes cold and merciless as they passed judgment. In some dreams, she saw him bound in silver chains that burned his skin, his proud head bowed before beings so ancient they made him look young. In others, she found herself surrounded by red-eyed shadows with gleaming fangs, their laughter echoing as they closed in around her. She'd wake up gasping,
