The Turning

The city never slept—but tonight, it felt like it was holding its breath.

Derek Juniper wasn’t supposed to be here.

The alley stretched longer than it should have, shadows clinging to brick walls like they had weight. The flickering streetlight behind him buzzed once—then went out.

“Okay,” Derek muttered, glancing around. “That’s not creepy at all.”

His phone had died ten minutes ago.

Of course it had.

He shoved it into his pocket anyway, more out of habit than usefulness, and kept walking. The quicker he got through this shortcut, the quicker he could get back to something normal.

Something familiar.

Something—

A sound.

Not loud. Not clear.

But wrong.

Derek stopped.

“Hello?”

Silence answered him.

Then—

Movement.

Not ahead.

Behind.

He turned—

—and saw nothing.

But the feeling stayed.

That crawling awareness at the back of his neck. The kind that told you something was watching… even if you couldn’t prove it.

“Yeah, I’m definitely leaving,” he said, turning again—

And slammed straight into something solid.

Or someone.

Derek stumbled back, breath catching as he looked up.

The man standing in front of him didn’t look surprised.

Didn’t look confused.

If anything—he looked like he’d been waiting.

Dark hair. Stillness that didn’t feel natural. Eyes that held too much focus.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the man said.

Not aggressive.

Not kind.

Certain.

Derek blinked. “Yeah, I was just realizing that, actually—”

Pain hit before he finished the sentence.

Sharp. Sudden. Blinding.

He gasped, stumbling as his hand flew to his side.

Blood.

His blood.

“What—”

The shadows moved.

Not like people.

Faster.

Closer.

Golden eyes flickered in the dark.

Derek barely had time to register them before something slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. The air left his lungs in a rush, panic spiking as pressure pinned him down.

“Get—off—”

The thing above him smiled.

Too human.

That was the worst part.

Then—

It stopped.

Completely.

The weight vanished.

The presence shifted.

Derek dragged in a breath, vision spinning as he pushed himself up just enough to see—

The man again.

Standing between him and them.

Still calm.

Still controlled.

“You’ve already taken enough,” the man said quietly.

The creatures didn’t respond.

But they didn’t move forward either.

A standoff.

Derek didn’t understand any of it.

Didn’t understand why his body felt weaker by the second—

Why everything sounded distant—

Why the man was suddenly kneeling in front of him.

“You’re dying,” he said.

Derek let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah… getting that impression…”

The man hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then—

“I can save you.”

Derek’s vision blurred.

“Yeah?” he managed. “What’s the catch?”

The man’s expression didn’t change.

“You won’t be human anymore.”

Silence.

Derek swallowed hard.

The world tilted.

The shadows pressed closer.

And for some reason—

The idea of disappearing scared him more.

“…Do it,” he said.

The man studied him.

Then nodded.

“Stay awake,” he murmured.

Derek tried.

He really did.

But as the man’s grip tightened and something sharp broke skin—

The last thing Derek felt wasn’t fear.

It was the overwhelming sense that—

Everything was about to change.

Romulus did not hesitate.

Steel kissed his palm, and he drew the blade slow enough to feel it—sharp, deliberate, a punishment he welcomed. Blood welled instantly, rich and dark, slipping between his fingers before trailing down the length of his arm in thin, deliberate lines.

He watched it for half a second.

Then he moved.

Without ceremony, he gripped Derek’s jaw and forced his mouth open, pressing his bleeding palm against it. The scent alone was enough to stir something feral in him—ancient, insatiable—but he held it back. Barely.

“Drink,” he murmured, though the word was more instinct than command.

Derek didn’t resist. Couldn’t.

Romulus turned his head, exposing his throat—not in vulnerability, but in ritual. When his fangs sank in, it was precise, controlled. A measured exchange. Not feeding—binding.

Still, the restraint cost him.

It had been too long since he’d tasted human blood.

For a moment—just a moment—he considered taking more. Draining him. Ending the fragile, inconvenient humanity clinging to the man in his arms.

But Romulus had not survived centuries by surrendering to impulse.

He pulled away.

Derek’s body slackened, his skin paling as the transformation took hold—blue fading to a cold, unnatural white. Romulus wiped the remaining blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable now, patience settling over him like a well-worn coat.

He waited.

Time stretched.

Then—

Derek gasped, his body jolting upright as breath rushed violently back into his lungs. His hand flew to his neck, fingers pressing against the tender, throbbing wound. Confusion came first. Then fear.

His gaze snapped upward.

Romulus.

Instinct took over—Derek scrambled back, panic sharpening his movements. But distance did nothing to make the man before him feel less overwhelming. Taller than expected. Composed. Watching.

Always watching.

Up close, Romulus was… disarming in a way Derek couldn’t quite name. Dark curls fell carelessly across his forehead, one strand out of place as if it refused to obey the rest. His features were precise, almost sculpted—too intentional to be accidental. Controlled. Like everything else about him.

And then—

He knelt.

Not fully. Not submissively. But enough to feel deliberate.

“My name is Romulus,” he said, voice low, measured. “And I owe you a debt I cannot repay in full.”

Derek blinked at him, still trying to catch up with reality.

“I have broken a covenant,” Romulus continued. “One I swore to uphold. For that… you have my apology.”

There was a long pause.

Derek stared at him.

What exactly was the correct response here?

Thank you for… killing me? Reviving me? Whatever this is?

Instead, he gave a stiff, uncertain nod.

Romulus studied him for a moment—then, unexpectedly, smiled. Not warm. Not cruel. Something in between.

“In another time,” he said lightly, “this would have ended far worse for you.”

“…That’s comforting,” Derek muttered, already pushing himself to his feet. “I think I’m just gonna—go home now.”

He turned quickly.

He didn’t get far.

Romulus caught him by the shoulder—not rough, but firm enough to stop him completely. The contact sent a strange, electric tension through Derek’s body.

“Sir Juniper—”

“Derek,” he corrected quickly. “Just… Derek.”

Romulus inclined his head, adjusting with ease.

“Very well. Derek.” A pause. Then, almost too casually: “You are no longer human.”

Silence.

Derek let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, okay. And I’m guessing there’s a part two to that?”

“There is.” Romulus’s gaze held his. “You are now a Civato vampire.”

That landed heavier.

Derek’s jaw tightened. “And the difference being…?”

Romulus straightened slightly, something older slipping into his posture—something authoritative.

“You are bound by laws you do not yet understand,” he said. “And by obligations you will not be permitted to ignore. What you are now requires discipline. Control.”

His expression softened—just a fraction.

“Consider it a gift, if you can.”

Derek didn’t look convinced.

Romulus exhaled, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through. “I will teach you what you need to survive this,” he said. “The hunger. The instincts. The world you’ve just stepped into—whether you’re ready or not.”

He stepped closer then, closing the space between them, forcing Derek to meet his eyes.

“The rest,” he added quietly, “is entirely up to you.”