Page 48 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

A part of me still wants to stay, Jonathan thought, watching the landscape of Transylvania slip away.But what would that even mean? To stay with someone who doesn’t want me? To live in a world of darkness and secrets? He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. I can’t make sense of my own feelings anymore. Maybe... maybe it is better to leave.

Miles away, Dracula stood amidst the ruins of his once-great castle. Blackened stone walls crumbled around him, still radiating heat from the intense blaze. Acrid smoke hung in the air, stinging his nostrils with the scent of burnt wood and meltedmetal. The East Wing, where he had kept the Béla look-alikes, was completely destroyed. Only skeletal remains of the structure stood, jagged beams reaching toward the sky like accusing fingers. Ash drifted on the breeze, coating everything in a fine gray powder. The eerie silence was broken only by the occasional crack of weakened timbers giving way. Dracula stared at the charred remains, a mix of emotions swirling within him as he surveyed the devastation of his lair.

“It’s fitting,” he murmured to himself. “I should have killed them long ago. But I held onto them, tormenting myself. Reminding myself to keep loving Béla.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes distant. “I thought my waning love for Béla meant I was growing colder, becoming more of a monster. So I sought to love his image harder than ever before.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I told myself I would always remember that love, over and over again. And now... now it’s all ash.”

“Good,” a voice said from the shadows, a voice Dracula hadn’t heard in centuries but would know by instinct.

Dracula whirled around, his eyes widening as he saw the demon saunter from the darkness. Its form shifted constantly as if struggling to maintain cohesion in the mortal realm just as it was long ago. Then it took on a more human visage, hauntingly beautiful like before, with long white hair and glowing amber eyes.

Rage boiled up within Dracula. “Now you decide to show yourself?” he snarled, lunging at the demon. “After all these years!”

But the demon easily dodged every attack, laughing as Dracula’s fists met nothing but air. “Still as impulsive as ever, I see,” it taunted.

Dracula stopped, his chest heaving. “You lied to me,” he spat.

The demon’s laughter died away, replaced by a look of mild curiosity. “I have no reason to lie to you, Vlad Tepes. Your soul already belonged to the eternal paradise when we struck our second bargain.”

Dracula grumbled at the name Tepes. The demon had obviously called him that to insult him, and he didn’t like it. His enemies had given him this moniker to focus on the act of punishing rather than what the so-called victims were getting punished for.

The murderous intent coming from the Counts was immeasurable. “Oh, did I insult you? I’m so so sorry Vladislaus Drakulya.”

“I gave up my son, mylegacy, for the promise of Béla’s return,“ Dracula said, his voice raw with emotion. “And for what? Nothing but pain and disappointment.”

The demon’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Oh, but I did make good on that promise. Béla’s soul did return, and you did a fine job of caring for it.”

Dracula froze, his mind struggling to process the demon’s words. “What do you mean? Jonathan-”

“Was hurt more than once because of you?” the demon finished, its tone light. “No, not him.”

Shock rippled through Dracula. “Then... who?”

The demon’s eyes glittered with amusement. “Remember that cat? The one you doted on, almost turned into one of your creatures of the night? Oh, how you loved it so.”

“That was... Béla?” Dracula whispered, disbelief coloring his voice. The curious cat he had met while picking the bat flower. He felt compelled to bring the animal home, and it had been a source of comfort until one night, it curled into his lap as he sat by the fire in his library on a cold winter night and died peacefully in its sleep.

The demon nodded, its smile widening. “See? Your Béla returned, he found you, you loved him, and he died a peaceful old mortal death. Promise fulfilled.”

Dracula’s mind was reeling. “But Jonathan... the things we experienced together, like how Béla and I used to make love in the tower...”

“Ah, that was Béla’s spirit,” the demon explained casually. “But only interfering enough to stir you toward the boy.”

“Is Béla’s spirit still here?” Dracula asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The demon shrugged. “Spirits linger in places that were once important to them or around loved ones who can’t let them go. So he lingered until you let him go.”

Dracula let out a long, slow breath. “Then Jonathan was just a man,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and regret. “A man I was developing feelings for, who allowed me to finally begin to truly let Béla go.” He laughed, the sound hollow and mocking. “I chased after physical appearances for centuries, never knowing that I had already held Béla in my arms.”

The demon watched Dracula with detached interest. “I must say, watching your castle burn was the highlight of my night,” it said, its tone conversational. “Seriously, this entire place was depressing.” It stretched, its form shimmering slightly. “Anyway, see you in another few centuries.”

As the demon faded away, Dracula was left alone amidst the ruins of his past. Centuries of obsession, misplaced love, and misguided actions settled heavily on his shoulders.

He thought of Jonathan, of the connection they had shared, of the way the young man had stirred feelings in him he thought long dead. And he had sent him away, back to London, back to a world that could never truly understand him.

Dracula closed his eyes, feeling the cool night air on his face. For the first time in centuries, he felt truly lost. The past he hadclung to so desperately was gone, turned to ash and rubble. And the future... the future he had allowed himself to glimpse with Jonathan, even as fleeting as it was... had he thrown that away too?

Chapter Thirty

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