Was someone watching her? The girl abruptly turned her head towards the tall bedroom window. She had to stand on a chair to see the street. From the ground, she could only look at the sky. So there was no one who could see her; yet she pulled the dark blue curtain a little closer. On the other side, a gap appeared through which the man could peek inside. With the patience of an angel, Teyrnon waited for her to go to bed. He waited again until she had fallen deeply asleep. Then he placed his hand flat on the sloping window that opened inward and pushed it open - she had forgotten to lock it. Without any difficulty, he slipped inside through the half-meter opening. He then took a seat on the chair in the corner of her bedroom. He felt, smelled, saw, and listened. And hesitated. For so long he had managed to suppress this urge. Day after day, year after year. Until a few hours ago, he was the person he wanted to be. But her blood burns in me, he thought. Sweat droplets formed again above his lip, a tremble in his hands. Cursed. I shouldn't have been confronted with her. Or she with me? How beautiful she is. Those lips, that hair. Is it only the bloodlust that brought me here? How would it be to taste those lips? Would he be able to resist the urge to bite into them and suck them dry? If his mouth was so close to her skin, wouldn't he want to bite and taste? Wake up, fair Nuala, there's a monster in your room.

Teyrnon Leandros closed his eyes for a few seconds, until he recognized himself in her thoughts. With a slight curl of his lips, he observed the expression on her face. Are you thinking of me, beautiful Nuala? he thought, even though he had already caught the silent sounds. ... how handsome he is. And intense... Why did he talk to me? I'm scared... He's so... overwhelming. How tall is he? One meter eighty- five or one eighty-six? I'm only one meter sixty-four. I shouldn't be thinking about him... Oh, who came up with this? I can't afford to trust anyone... Or to love. And now, on the very first day, he's here. Teyrnon. Maybe I'll only see him on Mondays. Yes. And most likely, he has already forgotten about me... The expression on his handsome face turned somewhat gloomy as he looked at young Nuala Kara. How anxious and uncertain her thoughts were. What if you knew the truth about me? he thought. You fear me already. What if I tell you that I cannot die? I do not want to be the beast from fairy tales... But for a long time, I have played that role. Ah, Nuala... The man looked at the palm of his left hand and then clenched it into a fist. He did the same with his other hand. No matter how strong the urge in him was... I do not want to kill you, he thought. I want to tell you who I am... Or should I say, what I am.

Impression, Mists of the Present, book 1

Impression, Mists of Tomorrow, book 3

They had left her alone. With bated breath, Nuala stared at the closed door of Teyrnons bedroom. Suddenly she realized that she was no longer breathing and took a deep breath. It faltered. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "Oh, God..." In a reflex, she put her hand over her mouth. How is this possible? In her thoughts, she repeated the conversation she had just had with her boyfriend... … "Are you sure you're not a vampire?" she had asked. Something she could never have imagined needing to ask. "My hand feels warm, doesn't it?" he had said. Nuala looked at her now empty hand. "Besides, neither I nor my family have ever died." She had looked into his eyes. His magical, indigo-colored eyes with a hint of tanzanite and the purple edge. Is our relationship real? He has killed. His family has killed people for their blood. Will they kill me too? Eventually? At that moment, a searing pain surged through her skull. Acid from her stomach splashed against her esophagus more and more regularly. An increase in pressure in her abdomen, cold saliva in her mouth. Damn. As quickly as she could, she slid her body out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Just in time, she managed to get her head above the toilet. Even as her body contracted for the first time, she felt someone suddenly grab her hair. With his other hand, the person supported her. Fear wanted to make her body stiffen, but first, it had to vomit.

"Easy now," Brian said soothingly. A second time the girl vomited. A rubbing motion on her back. Nuala sighed until the heavily troubled feeling subsided. She lowered herself onto her buttocks and slid out from under the hand. The nurse looked at her for a moment before pouring her a glass of water. "You've suffered a concussion," he informed her, placing the glass in front of her. "During the accident you just had... But luckily you have no other injuries. All in all, you've been very lucky today." The girl stared at the glass in front of her. Being surrounded by serial killers, he called that lucky? "I don't feel very lucky," her tense voice said as she glanced at him furtively. Brian moved his lips together for a few moments while noticing the suspicion in her eyes. "Have I changed that much in the last few hours?" he spoke in a soft and friendly tone. Nuala swallowed. Ugh, what a disgusting taste in my mouth. She took the glass - her hands trembling - and rinsed her mouth. Too paralyzed by fear and weakness to stand up at this moment, she spat into the shower drain. How different it felt now to be alone with this man. Previously, his appearance and the playful way he had sometimes looked at her had made her blush. Previously, she had felt safe. "You were never who I thought you were." The tension in her voice remained, as did the warmth radiating from his eyes. "Who did you think I was?" he asked, still as good-natured. The nurse knelt down in front of her and sat on the tiles as well. "I don't know," she said in denial. "Yes, you do... Otherwise, you wouldn't say I'm not who you thought I was... Who did you think I was? Tell me, Nuala." She looked away. Looking directly at him was difficult and scary now. His friendly yet stern gaze remained on her nonetheless. The prevailing silence began to feel unpleasant, at least for her. "Human," she decided to say. An eyebrow furrowed. "You don't think I'm human anymore?

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