Chapter 3 Blood in the Petals

The flower shop was quieter than usual that evening. The neon glow from the streetlights filtered through the glass panes, casting pale patterns over the scattered petals and vases. Amara moved among the blooms, her fingers brushing the soft edges of roses, lilies, and orchids. Every movement was deliberate, a calming ritual, but her mind wasn’t at ease.

Elias had returned again today, lingering near the counter, watching her work with the same intense curiosity she had noticed from the start. He was learning her rhythms, learning the way she moved, the subtle ways her body responded to stimuli. It was flattering and terrifying all at once.

And it didn’t help that the smell of his blood was still strong, that soft, glowing pulse beneath his skin calling to her Echo. She pressed a hand to her chest, forcing herself to focus on the flowers instead of the temptation he represented.

“You’re distracted,” Elias said, his voice low, teasing but laced with genuine concern. “Something’s on your mind.”

Amara gave him a sharp look. “I’m… not,” she said, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. She couldn’t tell him how much her instincts had been screaming since he walked in, how her fangs ached at the thought of tasting him, or how his mere presence made her senses flare uncontrollably. Not yet.

Before Elias could reply, a sharp noise from the back of the shop made both of them tense. The subtle scent of iron and decay hit her senses first, a warning she didn’t need. Something was moving in the shadows, something not human.

Her heart, or the echo of one, pounded. She didn’t hesitate.

“Stay behind me,” she whispered to Elias, her hand brushing lightly against his as she moved toward the source.

From the shadows, a figure emerged, a rogue vampire, lean, wiry, eyes glinting red in the dim light. Its lips curled into a predator’s smile as it took in the shop, the flowers, and the humans inside.

“You shouldn’t be here,” it hissed, voice low and dangerous. “Especially not her.”

Amara’s senses flared. Hunger, danger, instinct, all combined into a singular, razor-sharp focus. She stepped in front of Elias, her posture protective, fangs just visible beneath her lips.

“You leave,” she said, voice firm, commanding. Not threatening, not begging. Commanding.

The rogue laughed softly, tilting its head. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

With a blur of movement, it lunged.

Amara reacted instinctively, Echo flaring through her veins. The Crimson energy within her pulsed, coiling around her limbs, giving her strength, speed, and precision beyond human limits. She met the vampire mid-lunge, dodging with a fluid motion and striking back with claws that cut the air with a whispering hiss.

Elias didn’t move at first, watching her in awe. Then, as the fight escalated, his instincts kicked in. He moved to intercept the rogue, attempting to assist, but Amara’s warning was sharp.

“Stay back! Watch, learn!”

The rogue vampire sneered, circling her, trying to find an opening. But Amara’s movements were precise, every strike calculated, her Echo giving her an almost preternatural awareness of the attacker’s motions. She was a predator, and for the first time, she didn’t hide it.

The rogue lunged again, teeth bared. Amara’s hand shot out, catching the wrist mid-air, and with a sudden twist, she flung the vampire across the room. Vases shattered, petals flew, but the rogue hit the wall with a harsh thud, surprised and unprepared for her raw power.

Elias’s eyes widened. “You…” he started, voice faltering. “…you’re incredible.”

Amara didn’t respond. She was already moving again, circling, anticipating the rogue’s next move. Her senses were heightened, every sound, every faint breath, every shift in air pressure detectable. The predator and protector inside her had taken control, and nothing else mattered.

“You don’t belong here,” she hissed, eyes flashing crimson as her Echo flared. The rogue faltered, sensing the power she exuded—something beyond mere vampire strength.

Finally, with a controlled burst of speed, she struck, sending the rogue skidding across the floor. It lay there, panting, eyes wide with shock. Amara didn’t linger. She approached slowly, the scent of his blood, or maybe hers, still humming in the air, a dangerous, intoxicating current.

“You leave,” she repeated, softer this time, but deadly.

The rogue’s gaze flickered toward Elias, then back at her. “This isn’t over,” it whispered, before vanishing into the shadows, leaving a faint echo of menace behind.

Amara exhaled, knees trembling slightly, her power still thrumming in her veins. She turned to Elias, who was watching her with a mix of awe and something else, something more dangerous. Desire. Curiosity. Respect.

“You’re… not like anyone I’ve ever met,” he said softly, voice low. His hand brushed hers briefly, the contact electric. “And I think I like it… even if it scares me.”

Her fangs itched. Her instincts roared for release. But she swallowed hard, forcing control. She wasn’t ready, not fully, but the pull of his presence, his warmth, and that faint glowing pulse beneath his skin was impossible to deny.

“You shouldn’t stay here too long,” she murmured, voice low. “They’ll come back. And next time…” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “…next time, I might not hold back.”

Elias smiled faintly, a dangerous, infuriating grin. “I’ll take my chances,” he said. The subtle glow of his blood pulsed again, stronger this time, and Amara felt her Echo react, vibrating in sync with it.

The rogue had left, but its warning lingered, a shadow stretching over the small shop. Outside, the city remained unaware, oblivious to the predator and the prey within its midst. Inside, petals fluttered softly to the floor, mixing with tiny shards of broken glass, and the tension between Amara and Elias hung thick in the air, dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore.

Amara glanced at him, noticing the way his gaze lingered, the subtle admiration and something more she couldn’t name. Desire. Challenge. Connection.

And for the first time, she allowed herself a small, sharp thrill. She was dangerous, yes. But so was he.

And she realized, with a pulse of both fear and longing, that this—this connection, this hunger, this attraction—was only the beginning.

Because now, someone had marked them. And the hunter was still out there.