Chapter 3 THE GREETING

That night, driving toward the House of Silence in my dad's car, I noticed parts of town I'd never seen before.

It was quietly beautiful-narrow streets lined with trees, old buildings worn out by years and weather.

The kind of place you could settle into without meaning to, and forget to leave.

I pressed my forehead to the window, watching reflections blur as we turned a corner.

"How much farther?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Dad's hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "Close," he said. "You'll feel it before you see it."

As we left the last curve of town, the road narrowed and trees began to close in. Their branches stretched forward, forming a kind of tunnel- one that led into deeper silence.

Up ahead, the path opened up into a quiet space surrounded by trees.

Several other cars were already parked around. No one inside. No engines running.

"They've already gone in," Dad said as he pulled our car into a space between two others.

Mom scanned the trees with focus as she stepped out.

"Stay close," she said. "No straying. The path isn't always where you think it is."

I slipped out of the back seat, my boots pressing into the damp ground and fallen leaves.

The air was colder here, the quiet thicker. Every sound felt like it echoed too far.

We didn't wait.

Without another word, we headed into the trees-

Swift and silent, moving like shadows that had always belonged there.

Then, I felt it before I saw it. A weight in the air. The kind of silence that listens.

The House of Silence emerged between the trees, carved from dark stone and timber, half-consumed by vines. It looked like it had been there forever, and yet it felt aware. Awake.

Mom slowed her pace, and Dad followed. Neither looked at me, but I felt the warning in their stillness.

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to," Dad said.

Mom glanced at me, her eyes sharp but steady. "And don't lie. They'll know."

I nodded once.

And then we stepped forward toward the entrance. Toward whatever waited inside.

The doors stood tall, carved with symbols I didn't know. They opened on their own, like the House had already felt us coming.

The air inside was colder.

Figures moved through the shadows. Some turned to look. Most didn't.

No one spoke.

I stayed close to Mom's side. Dad led the way, his steps were certain, unhurried.

Somewhere deep within the House, a bell chimed-low and slow.

The greeting had begun.

Suddenly, the torches along the walls ignited, their flames flickering to life. The sudden glow revealed the true scale of the room.

Vampires stood in small groups, their eyes reflecting the light like dark mirrors. Some wore masks, others showed faces pale as marble, all watching us with interest.

A figure stepped forward from the crowd-tall, with an elegance that felt both inviting and dangerous.

"Welcome to the House of Silence," he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying authority. "I'm Caucasian. You're expected."

I swallowed, knowing this was only the beginning.

After the basic introductions-names spoken like promises, nods exchanged like quiet challenges.

We were led deeper into the House, toward the second floor where The Regent awaited.

The title belonged to the oldest vampire in the district, not the one that looked it in appearance, but the one who had survived the longest.

We followed Cassian up the stairs, the house was old and dusty.

We passed rooms until he finally stopped outside a door.

"He's inside," he said.

Dad gave a short nod, and the door opened.

Inside the room was clean and bright-modern, like luxury had been allowed in, just to remind you who was in charge.

I figured the rest of the house had been left in darkness on purpose. Classic vampire theatrics.

The Regent stood at the end of the room, he was unmistakable. Tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored coat-formal but not old-fashioned.

Someone stood beside him. When they turned, recognition struck.

It was Sebastian-the one from school.

Of course. He hadn't just been curious earlier. He belonged here.

Dad stepped forward, respectful and unafraid.

"We seek protection under your district," he said.

The Regent's gaze shifted to him, then to each of us in turn.

Then, unexpectedly, he let out an amused laugh.

"Oh, come now, Alaric," he said, voice smooth with an accent worn by centuries. "Formality has its place, but this isn't the Dark Ages."

He stepped forward into the full light, expression relaxed but unreadable.

"I'm Gavriel," he said. "And this"-he gestured-"is my son, Sebastian."

Sebastian offered a polite nod.

The resemblance between them was unmistakable-they looked like brothers, separated only by a few years.

Gavriel's gaze returned to me.

"You're the one shielding," he said quietly. "Good instinct. But here, you won't keep much hidden."

Mom's and Dad's eyes widened in curiosity.

He smiled and turned to Sebastian.

"Go on, keep her company. I'll have a talk with the parents," he added.

Without hesitation, Sebastian took my hand, and we stepped out together.

His dangerous smile appeared.

"You're very young," he said. "Still your actual age."

I almost asked how he knew, then remembered, we could hear things from a distance. I just rarely used the ability. Most of the time, I forgot I even had it.

"How old are you?" I asked, keeping my face straight.

"Thirty-eight," he replied, his voice was slow and steady. "First time repeating High School. I'm a born vampire, like you."

He glanced ahead, then added, "Sometimes I wonder why the Regent decided to have a child after thousands of years."

I blinked. "He's your actual father?"

Sebastian nodded.

"He said he didn't believe in love until he met my mother."

A pause.

"She left after I was born. Said eternal youth wasn't worth putting up with an ancient husband." He gave a faint smile. "Guess she wasn't into sugar daddies."

I laughed-louder than I meant to. So did he.

We talked and laughed for over an hour, until the mood changed.

His eyes were fixed on me.

"Can I ask you two questions?" he said.

I hesitated.

I didn't want to answer, not without thinking it through. I had a habit of getting pulled in too easily by warmth, by attention that felt genuine.

I couldn't afford to mess up again.

Not like I did with Olivia.

I gave a small nod, cautious.

"The first," he said, "have you ever been in love?"

I scoffed.

"Really? That's your question?" I said with sarcasm."

He didn't flinch. His eyes stayed on me, calm and unwavering.

I dropped the sarcasm and straightened my expression. "Can't you just read me? You did it once, without my permission."

"I stopped the moment you started shielding. It was wrong that I ever did. I had no right to."

His face was unreadable, but his tone was serious.

I studied him, unsure if I believed that.

"What's the second question?" I asked.

He smiled, just a little. "Are you looking forward to your first blood feed?"

The question echoed in my ears, heavier than I had expected.

No one had asked me that, not even my parents.

I knew it would happen when I turned eighteen. It was part of the transition, part of what came next.

But I'd never really let myself picture it.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I try not to think about it."

Sebastian nodded like he understood.

"You should. It's close," he said. "It's not just hunger. It changes things. The way you see. The way you feel. Who are you?"

I looked at him carefully.

"And you?" I asked. "What was it like for you?"

"Messy," he said quietly. "But worth it."