From Shadow to the Longest Sun

On our sixth wedding anniversary, I felt a seam split open in my skull.

Not from pain, but from truth.

“Ethan, that new assistant… how does she taste?”

Marcus’s thought, slick as oil.

Ethan's reply slithered through my veins: "Young. Tender. Like summer berries."

His lips shaped a lie.

His hand shielded me from the crowd, even as his fingers pressed a blood-red cocktail into my palm.

"Don't let Lena find out,"he thought, the words clear as speech. "I’d in a big trouble."

Laughter swirled. Champagne clinked.their mind.

Nobody knew I could hear every thought ,the ability to read minds awakened in me last night. .

Nobody knew I had already known about his betrayal long ago.

There were no tears, no screams

I just replied “yes” to Professor Johnson’s encrypted call-the path I should have chosen six years ago.

In three days, I would vanish.

Not running from him.

Running back to who I was at twenty—the rising star of virus research.

The mental static receded like the tide slipping from shore.

I forced my fingers to unclench. Shattered glass bit into my palm.

Ethan caught the shift.

His laugh cut off like a blade.

He turned; his grip was iron-clad, his voice like​ dripping honey.“Sweetheart?

What’s wrong?”

English.

But my mind replayed his thought, slick and smug:

“I want Celia right now.”

I studied him.

The vampire who knelt in moonlit beach six years ago.

He begged me to accept the Embrace.

He had Chased me from Boston campus to New York labs.

“You’re my fated mate. In 300 years, I’ve felt nothing… until you.”

I believed him. And so, I abandoned my viral mapping research, died in his arms, and was reborn from his blood.

All to walk eternity by his side.

For six years, I showed no aversion to sunlight, no super-senses, no sensitivity to Vervain—only the hollow gift of immortality.

He would ruffle my hair and say, “Even if you never awaken, it’s fine. You’re my mate. That’s enough.”

Yet I did awaken. And the first gift of my awaken, was the sound of him, in his mind, tasting another woman.

A brittle smile touched my lips.

Don’t flinch. Don’t question. Play the tired human wife.

"Nothing," I murmured.

Then—let the question slip.

“What were you guys doing?”

Voice casual. Like idle curiosity.

Ethan smiled naturally, pinching my cheek.

“Just discussed some business things. I knew you wouldn’t want to hear that boring stuff.So we did that in a quiet way.”

His mind whispered: “Let her go. Easier to slip to Celia after the toast.”

He didn’t mention Marcus asking about “his little assistant.”

Didn’t mention “young and tender.”

I wouldn’t tell him about my awakened telepathy.

The air thickened and grew​ suffocating.

I pulled my hand free.

“Don’t let me interrupt. I wanna take a walk outside.”

Before he could answer, I turned and left the banquet hall.

Hudson River wind slapped my face on the terrace.

Vampire whispers drifted:

“Ethan’s mate.”

“Human-born scientist. Their wedding ceremony shook NYC.”

“Still throws grand anniversaries every year. Real prince.”

I once cherished the mortal whispers praising our blood-bonded union,they used to warm me.

But now,someone else’s fairy tale.

No one knew Ethan has cheated on me

Standing there in the cold wind, my mind flashed back to last night.

Last evening, I found out that I've finally awakened the ability to read minds. I'm so excited and want to tell Ethan this good news right away.So I slipped into Ethan’s secret office, wanted to give him a surprise. I eased the cabinet door open, breath held.

Then came muffled moans, a rhythm of betrayal.

There he was. The man who had sworn “I’ll only love you forever” pinned his “summer berry” against the floor-to-ceiling glass.

Behind them stretched New York’s skyline, a glittering stage for his betrayal.

Through the narrow crack, two bodies twisted in a violent rhythm. Her silk blouse hung in tatters, skin flushed fever-bright.

Thighs locked around his waist, grinding against him as his fangs sank deep into her throat.

Blood welled—warm, metallic-sweet. A choked gasp escaped her; hips jerked against his thrust.

His tongue sealed the wound, drinking deep while her nails raked his back, drawing crimson trails.

“Harder,” she rasped.

He pulled back, lips smeared crimson, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. “You’re dripping for me.”

One sharp thrust. “Sweet?”

Celia’s breath hitched against his mouth. “Sweet enough to kill me.”

Every second, punctuated by the sharp slap of skin, breathless moans, and guttural growls, carved into her a wound deeper than his fangs had ever left.

Hours passed.

When they finally left, clothes smoothed and lies tucked into place, I was already hollow.

I lost the hours.

I pressed my palm to the cabinet door, nails digging into wood.Then slid down, knees buckling.Then nothing.

When I walked out of that building, the blood-bond snapped like a crap.

Ethan was dead to me.

The phone's ring on the terrace tore me from the memory, pulling me back .

Dr. Johnson.

"I’ve submitted your name to the WHO special project," his voice came, careful. "High-security lab on Liberia’s border. Researching Evola—the highly lethal virus.Someone arrives in three days. Say goodbye to your family."

Family.

The word tasted like ash.

My blood family died at my twenty-two.

Ethan became my new world.

Now he’s having an affair.

So he’s no longer my family.

"Johnson," I said, low. "Do me a favor. Seal my records from all public databases. Make me a ghost."

Two heartbeats of silence.

"Are you serious?

Lena, you know what this means. Until declassified, you'll vanish from this world. And Ethan... You're already married. What if he can't find you?"

I almost laughed. "He’s cheated."

A sharp inhale. Then gravel-soft:

"Yesterday, when you said ‘I want back on the bench’…I knew something was broken between you two.

I just didn’t expect this.

I’ll handle it. Erase every trace. These three days—get your affairs in order."

Relief flooded my veins.

One more thing to be prepared, and I would be totally free.

"Thank you," I whispered.

The words had barely faded when cold breath brushed my neck.

A shadow detached from the terrace pillars.

A voice—low, familiar, laced with ice—cut the night:

"Who’s cheated?"