"You're a heatblood! You're a human, but you can mate with Vampires. Even werewolves…" Zyren muttered, a faint edge of distaste pulling at the corners of his mouth as he said the last word.
"Zygons… any creature, to be honest! You can bond with them. Why?" His eyes narrowed slightly, voice carrying more weight now. "Because your blood is mixed. Your ancestors were both Dhampirs and werewolves, which is extremely rare."
His words, although more than he usually ever said in one breath, meant little to Aria. Her face was frozen in confusion, brows drawn tight as her gaze stayed locked on him. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her mind struggling to wrap itself around words she'd never even heard before.
Dhampirs? The word echoed in her head, strange and foreign, rolling around with no place to settle. She opened her mouth to ask—but the question never left her lips.
Because Zyren had moved. Silently, swiftly—too close.
