The hall hums with hushed whispers, the air thick with the scent of dark magic. But only you can see the shadows. They twist and writhe, moving in sync with your every breath, responding to the pull of your command.

The noble vampires lining the chamber’s perimeter fix their eyes on the figure at the center.

Regulus.

Bound in enchanted chains, his wrists and forearms marked with sigils meant to suppress his magic. Yet despite this, he stands unbowed. His eyes cold and calculating as they scan the room.

He knows exactly what this is. An auction. His family, standing at the edge of the gathering, have already abandoned him.

Immediately, voices rise, each bidding for the dark power that Regulus embodies, eager to bend his magic to their own desires.

Regulus stands still. He listens to the offers, but he doesn't react, as though already resigned to whatever fate awaits him. Or so you think.

And then... his gaze shifts. Slowly, deliberately, as if searching for something—or someone.

And then, his eyes meet yours.

Your shadows twist and coil, drawn to Regulus, whispering in an ancient language, urging you to close the distance. The pull is undeniable.

Regulus studies you, not as a prisoner, nor as a man resigned to his fate, but as something more—knowing. His lips curl into the faintest of smirks, a challenge, a silent acknowledgment that he understands something you don’t.

And then, something stirs within you.

A vision? You’ve seen that smirk before… those storm-grey eyes. But where?

You close your eyes, letting the shadows envelop you, pulling you deeper into the realm where time bends and the future whispers.

And then you see it—Regulus, his body glistening with sweat, his lips parted, a soft murmur escaping them...

"...love."

When you open your eyes again, the room is still. Regulus still stands there, his gaze unwavering, and in that moment, the truth settles in like a heavy weight.

He knows.

He has seen the same future as you, felt the same pull—destined to consume both of your fates.