Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would find myself here — beneath the cold Louisiana earth, in a freshly dug grave in the cemetery of Bon Temps — lying beside the infamous Eric Northman.

The soil above us muffled the world into silence. No moonlight. No stars. Just darkness thick enough to taste. The scent of damp earth filled my lungs, heavy and final. This was a coffin without wood, a burial before death had even fully claimed me.

Tonight, I would die.

And tomorrow, I would rise as his progeny.

He had explained it to me in that calm, ancient voice of his — that to be reborn, I had to be completely drained. My heart would slow. My body would empty. My humanity would slip quietly away. Then he would give me his blood, and I would awaken no longer human, bound to him by something older than memory.

Beside me, Eric was impossibly still, like a marble statue carved from centuries of patience and hunger.

“Death is not the end.” He murmured, his voice low and certain, as if he had watched the end of the world and found it unimpressive.

My throat felt tight despite the humid night air. “Is it going to hurt?”

A faint smirk ghosted across his lips, unseen but felt. “Not the way I do it.”

There was no rush in his movements. No brutality. He shifted closer, one cool hand steadying me against the loose earth. His fingers brushed my jaw, tilting my head gently to the side — an oddly tender gesture for something so lethal.

Then I saw them.

His fangs descended slowly, deliberately, catching what little light filtered down into our grave.

For a split second, instinct screamed at me to run — but there was nowhere to go. And I had chosen this.

Eric lowered his mouth to my neck, and when his teeth pierced my skin, it was not the violent tearing I had feared. It was precise. Controlled. A sharp sting that quickly dissolved into something warm and dizzying.

The world began to blur.

My pulse thundered in my ears, then slowed. Each heartbeat felt farther apart than the last. My limbs grew heavy, numb, as if the earth itself were claiming me early. The scent of soil faded, replaced by the faint metallic tang of my own blood.

Through the haze, I felt him withdraw.

I was cold. So cold.

Then warmth touched my lips.

His wrist.

“Drink.” Eric commanded softly.

The first drop of his blood was fire — ancient and electric — flooding through me like lightning striking a corpse. My body arched against the grave’s narrow walls as power surged where life had been fading. My heart gave one final, fragile beat… and stopped.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

But somewhere within it, something new began to awaken.