Adrian woke screaming.
Fire. Everything was fire. His veins burned like acid, his bones felt like they were breaking and reforming, his skin too tight, his senses exploding with input he couldn't process.
"I'm here," Kieran's voice cut through the pain. Cool hands on his face, grounding him. "I've got you. Breathe."
"Can't—" Adrian gasped. "Can't breathe—"
"You don't need to anymore. Your body is confused, trying to remember how to be human when it's becoming something else. Let go of breathing. Let go of your heartbeat. Let your body die so it can be reborn."
But letting go felt like drowning. Adrian fought it, fought the change, and the pain intensified.
"Don't fight," Kieran urged, lying down beside him and pulling Adrian against his chest. "I know it's terrifying. But fighting makes it worse. Surrender to it. Trust me."
Adrian tried. He really tried. But every instinct screamed at him to fight, to survive, to not let go of the humanity that defined him.
Hours passed in agony. His senses sharpened and dulled randomly—one moment he could hear molecules moving, the next he was deaf. He could smell everything, then nothing. His vision flickered between crystal clarity and complete darkness.
"Day one is always hardest," Kieran said, his voice steady, calm. "Your body is fighting itself. The human cells dying, the vampire cells taking over. It feels like war because it is war."
Adrian convulsed, his body arching off the floor. The pain was indescribable—worse than anything he'd imagined. Worse than death itself.
"Kill me," he begged. "Please, just kill me—"
"No." Kieran's voice was firm. "You're not dying. You're transforming. There's a difference."
"Hurts—"
"I know. I know it hurts." Kieran pressed kisses to Adrian's sweat-soaked forehead. "But you're strong. Stronger than you know. You survived death once before. You can survive this."
Time lost meaning. Adrian existed in a haze of agony, occasionally punctuated by Kieran's voice anchoring him to reality. Sometimes Kieran told him stories—about their past life, about the centuries he'd waited, about the future they'd have together. Sometimes he just held Adrian and let him scream.
At some point, Marcus checked in. "How is he?"
"Suffering. But his body is accepting the change. He'll survive." Kieran's voice was strained. "How long has it been?"
"Eighteen hours."
"God." Kieran's arms tightened around Adrian. "Eighteen more to go before the worst passes."
Adrian wanted to protest that he couldn't survive eighteen more hours of this, but his jaw had locked shut, his fangs—fangs, he had fangs now—cutting into his bottom lip.
The taste of his own blood was different. Sweeter. More potent. And it triggered a hunger so intense Adrian nearly blacked out.
"Not yet," Kieran said, somehow knowing. "You can't feed until the transformation completes. Your body isn't ready to process blood yet."
But the hunger was a living thing now, gnawing at Adrian's insides, demanding satisfaction. He tried to bite Kieran, tried to find any source of blood, animal instinct overriding rational thought.
Kieran simply held him tighter, using his superior strength to keep Adrian restrained. "I know. I know you're hungry. Soon. I promise, soon."
Day two was somehow worse.
The physical pain lessened slightly, but the sensory overload intensified. Adrian could hear everything—every heartbeat in the valley below, every breath of wind, every insect crawling through the monastery walls. He could smell blood everywhere—in the village miles away, in the animals in the forest, in the blood bags stored nearby.
And the light. Even with his eyes closed, even in the darkened room, everything was too bright. He could see through his eyelids, see the individual dust motes floating in the air, see the molecular structure of the walls around him.
"Your brain is rewiring," Kieran explained, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Learning to process vampire senses. It will settle. You'll learn to filter, to focus. But right now, everything is overwhelming."
"Make it stop," Adrian whimpered.
"I can't. But I can help you focus." Kieran's hand found Adrian's, threading their fingers together. "Focus on this. On my touch. Block out everything else. Just feel my hand in yours."
Adrian tried. It was impossibly hard—like trying to hear a whisper in a hurricane—but Kieran's hand was cool and solid and real. He clung to it like a lifeline.
"Good," Kieran praised. "Now my voice. Listen only to my voice. Let everything else fade."
Slowly, painfully, Adrian managed to filter out some of the noise. The world was still too bright, too loud, too intense, but Kieran's presence helped ground him.
"Tell me a story," Adrian managed to say, his voice rough and strange in his own ears.
So Kieran told him stories. About the monastery, about the monks who'd saved him, about the years he'd spent learning control. About the first time he'd fed without killing, the first time he'd watched a sunrise without burning, the first time he'd felt human again despite being a monster.
"You're not a monster," Adrian slurred.
"Neither are you. No matter what you become, you're not a monster. You're Adrian. You're the soul I've loved for a thousand years. That doesn't change."
Day three brought a different kind of agony.
The physical pain had mostly subsided, replaced by an all-consuming hunger. Adrian's new body was ready to feed, demanding blood with an urgency that obliterated rational thought.
"Soon," Kieran promised. "Just a few more hours. Your body needs to complete the transformation before you feed, or you'll make yourself sick."
But Adrian was beyond hearing. He lunged at Kieran, fangs extended, driven purely by instinct. Kieran caught him easily, holding him down despite Adrian's newfound vampire strength.
"Not me," Kieran said firmly. "When you feed for the first time, it can't be from another vampire. It has to be human blood. And it has to be controlled, or you'll drain them dry."
Adrian snarled—actually snarled—frustration and hunger driving him to violence. He fought against Kieran's hold with strength that surprised them both.
"He's strong," Marcus observed from the doorway.
"New vampires always are. The strength settles after the first feeding." Kieran adjusted his grip as Adrian nearly broke free. "Get the blood bags ready. The moment his transformation completes, he'll need to feed immediately."
"How do you know when it's complete?"
"His eyes. They'll change from red to—there."
Adrian's eyes, which had been burning crimson for three days, suddenly shifted. The red faded, replaced by a color that was neither grey nor brown but somehow both. His human eye color transformed, now containing flecks of silver that caught the light.
"He's done," Kieran said, relief evident in his voice. "Bring the blood. Now."
Marcus brought a blood bag, still warm from being heated. The moment Adrian smelled it, he went absolutely feral.
Kieran released him, and Adrian tore into the bag with his fangs, drinking desperately. The blood hit his system like a drug—warm, vital, alive despite being stored. It sang through his veins, soothing the aching hunger, making his new body finally, finally feel right.
He drained three bags before the hunger subsided enough for rational thought to return.
"Adrian?" Kieran's voice was cautious. "Are you in there?"
Adrian looked up from the fourth bag, blood on his lips, fangs still extended. "Kieran?"
His voice was different. Deeper, richer, with an undertone that hadn't been there before. The voice of a predator.
"Welcome back," Kieran said, smiling. "How do you feel?"
Adrian took stock of his body. The pain was gone. The sensory overload had settled into something manageable—still intense, but no longer overwhelming. He felt strong, powerful, alive in a way he'd never experienced as a human.
"I feel..." Adrian paused, searching for words. "Everything. I feel everything."
"That's normal. It will settle over the next few days." Kieran approached slowly, giving Adrian space. "Do you know who I am? Do you remember?"
"Of course I remember. You're Kieran. You're mine." Adrian stood, marveling at how easy movement was now. No fatigue, no weakness. Just fluid, effortless grace. "I remember everything. My human life, Elias's life, the transformation. All of it."
"Do you want to hurt me? To feed from me?"
Adrian considered. There was hunger, yes—there would always be hunger now. But it was manageable, controllable. "I want to kiss you. Is that allowed?"
Kieran's smile was radiant. "That's definitely allowed."
They came together, and kissing as vampires was different. Adrian could taste Kieran in ways he never could as a human—could taste the age in his blood, the power, the love. Their fangs clicked together slightly, making them both laugh.
"That will take practice," Kieran said.
"I have eternity to practice."
"Yes. Yes, you do."