Vlad had remained completely still for two days, staring at Daenerys, feeling how her insides were changing, how her heart gradually quickened as the blood transformed everything within her. He was happy, after all, who wouldn't be? He was going to be able to spend eternity with her.
But when the process reached its final phase, when her heart began to beat slower and slower, until it stopped completely, Vlad felt something he thought he had forgotten.
Fear.
A primitive, icy terror coursed through his veins like an electric current. Panic that made his skin crawl and clouded his reasoning. He wanted to scream, curse, shake her awake, but he forced himself to stay calm. He knew she would return. He had that certainty... and yet, the forty-eight hours he waited by her side, completely still, felt like a very twisted personal hell.
He tried to calm himself, but his mind spun in circles, trapped in fictional scenarios, absurd explanations, desperate theories. All with the same axis: the possibility that Daenerys would not awaken.
And then, after exactly two days since she drank his blood, her body began to react.
First, her skin became paler, flawless, as if light itself caressed it. Her hair, already beautiful, became even silkier, like strands of silver. Her arms, slightly thin from years of deprivation in her childhood, gained firmness and harmony; her hips subtly widened, her abdomen became firm and strong, and her breasts took on a fuller, more alive shape.
Daenerys had already been a beautiful woman, but life on the streets, the constant struggle, had left invisible marks. Now, the embrace had erased each of them, revealing what had always been there, latent: the perfect shape of feminine beauty. If her beauty was known in the world before, now it would be enough to start wars.
With each transformation, Vlad calmed down little by little... but he did not move. He refused to do so, as if looking away for even a second could make her disappear.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, Daenerys's eyelids moved.
As if the world had held its breath and finally let it go, she opened her eyes.
The world was new.
She didn't recognize it at first. Everything was too sharp, too vibrant. The texture of the air, every particle traveling with the currents, the way the light caressed the surfaces, the distant heartbeats of human hearts in the gardens, the whisper of the wind between the banners... Everything came to her at once, in waves that didn't overwhelm her, but intertwined like a perfect symphony. She could separate them, disconnect them, weave them together, as much as she wanted.
Her eyes, though still a deep violet, now shone with an unusual clarity, as if sculpted from liquid amethyst, vibrating like gems. There was a nearly magical glow in them, a hypnotic shine. More beautiful, more alive.
She blinked, and the flames of the candles danced in slow motion for her. She tilted her head slightly, and she could count the individual threads of the velvet chaise, distinguish the subtlest perfume of rose oil in the air, every crack in the stone walls.
And then she saw him.
—Vlad? —she whispered, but her voice had changed. It was clearer, deeper, like a soft, beautiful melody.
Vlad, kneeling at her side, motionless, with a devotion of stone. His eyes were pools of golden fire, and for the first time, she didn't see him as a man... but as what he truly was.
She had been blind until that moment. Vlad had always seemed handsome, perfect to her, but even so, she hadn't been able to see the magnitude of what he was. Her poor human sight couldn't capture the perfection that made him up: how each muscle of his imposing chest tensed as he breathed, how his eyes glowed with a beautiful golden light like the dawn, how his lips were now more tempting than ever.
She had been blind, but now she saw.
So, she moved to kiss him.
But unknowingly, she moved faster than she ever had before, faster than her human body had ever allowed. The chaise flew across the room and crashed hard into the wall, breaking into splinters. Daenerys collided with Vlad's body, and for the first time since she met him, he staggered backward.
She was shocked. She had seen Vlad resist assaults from men, horses, and even dragons, without moving an inch. But now, she had made him retreat.
—Be careful, my love —he said, laughing—. Now it's your turn to measure your strength.
—What...? How...? —Daenerys was stunned—. Gods, I feel amazing. I've never felt so strong... so alive.
—You're euphoric. You just need to calm down a bit and control your impulses. You'll regain your human sensitivity when your mind adapts to the new sensations.
—My gods... I feel like I could lift a ship with my hands. —She laughed with enthusiasm.
—And you could. Now you have the strength for that and more. But first... you need to drink.
With those words, Daenerys felt for the first time a burning sensation in her throat. A thirst like never before in her life, not even when she wandered through the desert.
—Now, my love... drink —Vlad said as he exposed his shoulder blade, offering himself.
—What? No. You already gave me your blood before, you're weak —she shook her head, alarmed.
—Weak, me? —Vlad laughed—. This is part of the process, my love. Now you will drink my blood, and I will drink yours. And then we will be one blood. United for all eternity.
Daenerys hesitated for a moment, but she could see it clearly: Vlad showed no signs of weakness or fatigue. On the contrary, his bearing was as imposing as always, perhaps more so. And the thirst... the thirst burned in her throat like a primal fire, impossible to ignore.