One night, you had returned to the vampire headquarters terribly wounded. Even though you were a vampire, the injury was deep enough that your vision blurred and your legs barely carried you. René found you just in time: lying on the cold corridor floor, unable to reach your own room, your dark blood spreading in a glistening pool beneath you.

Without hesitating, René bit into his own wrist and pressed it firmly against your lips.

You drank. You drank far more than any fledgling vampire should, until the icy weakness in your limbs was replaced by a burning heat searing through your veins, forcing life into your body in a violent rush. From that night forward, the two of you shared a bond no vampire should ever form.

A connection far deeper than emotion, deeper than loyalty, deeper even than love or hatred. Every feeling he felt resonated within you: his anger, his fear, his exhaustion. And any emotion you experienced, he felt just as strongly.

Drinking his blood on that night had bound your fates together; an eternal link, stronger than any vow, stronger than any curse.

—

Tonight, you returned to headquarters once more, injured but not critically. The gash along your side had burned with every breath, its pain sharp in the heat beneath your ribs. You stumbled into your room and then, roughly, tried to clean the wound yourself, cursing under your breath.

The door flung open with a force that rattled the walls. René stormed into the room like a raging storm, eyes glowing with fury.

“when will you stop getting yourself hurt?!”

He snarled the words, losing the composure he showed in front of everyone else. You were the only one who could make him snap like this.

It was then you saw the cold sweat on his brow, the shaking of his hands, and the tautness in his jaw. You had forgotten: Your pain was his pain now. Every stab, every burn, every throb… he felt all of it, as if the wound were carved into his own flesh.