The gloom cloaked the tower as Rasen crumpled another ink-stained sheet, hurling it to the floor in frustration. His mind, a tangled mess of obsessive thoughts and intense emotions, teetered on the edge of sanity.
"Too many days have passed since I last wrote..." he muttered, lighting another candle with trembling hands.
Lionel, ever watchful, approached with a fresh sheet of paper but couldn't hide the concern etched across his face.
"Rasen, you should go outside. This news has overwhelmed you."
"What would you know?" Rasen snapped, avoiding his gaze.
Lionel sighed, visibly distressed."I know she's become a dangerous obsession for you. It's a habit impossible to break... which is why I've kept silent until now."
Without another word, Rasen left the tower, the weight of his emotions pressing against his chest like an iron yoke. Cold rain began to fall as he wandered into the garden. A dropped handkerchief caught his eye, and as he picked it up, a storm of thoughts struck him.
"No... It can't be. She thinks I'm dead. How could she believe that?"
The words echoed through his mind. His steps faltered until he collapsed to his knees in the wet earth.
"She's in danger. I can feel it... deep in my soul…still withered"
The rain, constant and icy, mixed with the tears on his cheeks."Aisha... She's like poison coursing through my veins—impossible to extract..."
Lionel watched from afar, powerless to intervene. Finally, he whispered with quiet resignation,"Don't worry. I'll keep your secret."
Later, when Rasen returned to the garden, his disheveled state drew Cristal's attention. There was something unsettling in his expression: a blend of emptiness and emotional turbulence.
"Cristal, you're back home," Rasen said distantly.
"You've been out too long, Rasen. Are you alright?" she asked, her tone laced with doubt and concern.
Rasen remained silent, hands buried in his pockets, his clothes still damp with dirt.
"Is this mud? Have you been crying?" Cristal asked, gently touching his face.
He turned away, placing her shawl over her shoulders with an unexpectedly tender gesture. His fingers grazed her skin, and for a fleeting moment, a trace of humanity broke through his stoic mask.
"Stay warm, Cristal."
His softness momentarily soothed her, though the doubt gnawed at her.
"If you're hiding nothing, why is Lionel still here on his day off?" she asked, trying to uncover the truth.
"It was my request," Rasen replied calmly. "There's nothing to hide."
Cristal chose to believe him, though her instincts screamed otherwise. Later, upon returning to the room, she found Rasen's clothes in the bathroom hamper. Overcome by suspicion, she searched his pockets while he was in the shower.
There, she found a crumpled paper. Her heart pounded as she unfolded it and read the desperate, rage-filled words:
"Desire is not what you see, but what you imagine. Even if denied, it's merely my thoughts... Convinced and tempted not to lose what I once had... Tying you up would be torture, tlocking you up… would cause your death. And yet, I want—I need and want to drag you so that you are mine Make you mine. A...sha."
Cristal froze. Rasen's obsession with Aisha was painfully clear. A storm of jealousy and rage surged through her, leading her to a drastic decision.
That night, Cristal prepared the room with scented candles and dim lighting. She made small cuts on her palms, allowing the blood to drip onto her neck and arms—bait to draw him into an uncontrollable frenzy.
The room's iron-rich scent hit him like a gunshot. His jaw clenched, fangs bared, and breath quickened. The wild beating in his temples echoed a primal instinct he could no longer suppress. When he gripped her by the chin, it wasn't with tenderness—but with the hunger of a predator.
He drank from her with savage intensity. He held her tightly, surrendering completely. The bites deepened until her pain turned to ecstasy. But Rasen, lost in his craving, left marks all over her. The night echoed with their ragged breaths, the scent of blood, and unrestrained passion.
At dawn, he woke disoriented, his clothes torn and the air thick with the stench of iron.
He wiped his face, finding his mouth still damp with blood. His dilated pupils reflected the destruction he had caused. His body craved her, but his soul screamed in denial.
"This isn't love. This is a mistake."
Wracked with regret, he scribbled a note before leaving in haste:"I'm sorry."
When Cristal awoke, she found the note. A satisfied smile curved her lips. She had achieved her goal. Looking at herself in the mirror, she traced the marks on her body—reminders of the night's passion and her sacrifice.
"Soon, I'll have something he can never deny…" she whispered, touching her abdomen with a triumphant gleam.
At breakfast, Lionel awaited her.
"Where's Rasen?" Cristal asked.
"He won't be returning for a while," Lionel replied without lifting his eyes.
Cristal smiled discreetly, already weaving the next thread in her plan.
"There's someone I need to see."
Lionel frowned. The air turned heavy.
"Whom?"
Cristal slid a piece of paper toward him, her smile almost innocent—yet her eyes burned with a darker purpose.
"Just tell him I have an offer he can't refuse."
"Cristal, what the hell are you planning?"
She smiled as if savoring a silent victory.
"Lionel, are you worried about Rasen… or what I might do?"
His gaze hardened, but he didn't answer. He knew that in Cristal's game, the wrong reply could be fatal.
As Rasen walked away from the only place he could call home, tormented by the weight of his choices, a new dread consumed him: the safety of those he had vowed to protect. Though a looming darkness still stalked him, he knew this was just the beginning of a war between desire and love.