If she were staring at Bigfoot, perhaps she could force herself to believe it. But nothing could have prepared her for this—a monster too beautiful to exist, sculpted like a god's finest creation, bending the very walls and architecture of the building around them to trap her. It was no wonder she'd been lost, wandering through what felt like a maze. Every hallway blurred into the next, and she'd long stopped recognizing where she'd come from or where she was going. He had been leading her in circles for what felt like an eternity.
Wish clamped her hands over her mouth, fighting to hold in a scream. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, stayed fixed on the looming silhouette before her, while her whole body quaked under the weight of fear.
"You are mine, human."
She flinched as his voice dropped, deeper and darker than before, sending an icy shiver down her spine. Her blood turned cold. He suddenly appeared taller, his shadow stretching like a dark lord from some ancient tale. Her heart pounded so violently, she thought it might burst from her chest.
He paused, then struck a match. The tiny flame licked the air as he lit a single red candle that sat in the center of the room, casting a crimson glow across his sharp features.
"You woke me from my slumber with your blood. That alone tells me you were meant to be mine," he said, his voice calm, as he moved to draw back the heavy curtains.
Wish's mouth parted in awe. The storm outside had vanished. The sun was gone. Night had fallen. A full moon sat high in the sky, illuminating the world in a pale, silver hue.
Had it really been daytime just a moment ago? How long had he kept her lost in his labyrinth?
"And you are mine," he repeated, voice unwavering. "There is no choice left for you but to accept your rebirth."
Rebirth?
He turned slowly, his sinful beauty bathed in the soft light of the candle. Shadows danced across his face, and when he smiled, her breath caught in her throat. His lips—blood red—moved with purpose.
"Yes. Rebirth."
"You're no longer who you once believed yourself to be, Wish. You are now someone's beloved. You are the destined leader of a realm."
Her knees nearly gave out beneath her. He towered over her now, and fear crept into every corner of her mind.
"I would never hurt you, Wish," he said, answering the question she hadn't dared to voice aloud.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his. His eyes—like diamonds tinted with a faint red glow—held a sincerity she wasn't prepared for. They were warm. Kind, even. And in that moment, it felt as if the world had quieted, leaving only him and the truth in his eyes.
She was falling for it. Fast. Too fast. And it terrified her.
But was there even a way to resist?
"Am I…" her voice cracked, trembling with uncertainty. "Am I going to become a vampire too?"
The vulnerability in her question pierced something soft in him. He stepped closer, gently placing his gloved hands on either side of her face.
"No," he said, voice low and tender. "No, sweetheart. I would never turn you without your will. I only marked you as mine. There's no need to be afraid."
Her gaze drifted away again, searching the room for an exit. Some way—any way—to escape him, to escape this.
But he wasn't having it. He wanted her attention, her eyes, her presence focused solely on him. Not filled with wild thoughts of running. Not dreaming of places beyond his reach.
And so, he kissed her.
It was sudden, and it stole the breath from her lungs. The warmth of his lips against hers sent a jolt through her entire being. Her instinct was to pull away, to flee. But the fire that ignited between them was too powerful, too consuming.
He kissed her like he'd waited lifetimes for it.
Slow, but deliberate.
Gentle, but unrelenting.
Her lips moved with his, and in that exchange, something awakened in her. A hunger she didn't know she possessed. It wasn't just a kiss—it was a revelation. Her eyes fluttered shut as his hands slid from her cheeks to her waist, drawing her closer, holding her as if he already knew every inch of her soul.
And she let him.
Her lips, once untouched, were now claimed by his. She'd never been kissed before—never known how good it could feel, how dizzying. He led, and she followed, her body giving in to every sensation he offered.
It was overwhelming. Exhilarating.
His kiss numbed her thoughts. She didn't realize he had lifted her until she felt the hard surface beneath her—he had placed her on a table. Only when he pulled back did she become aware of the ache between her thighs, a yearning she couldn't explain, and didn't know how to soothe.
Her gaze lingered on his lips… and the sharp fangs that peeked behind them.
She didn't know how to ask him for more. Didn't know how to explain what she was feeling—how this was the first time anyone had made her feel so wanted.
He moved between her legs, bracing his hands on either side of her thighs. His face hovered close, so close it made her breath hitch, her heart thunder. She prepared herself for another kiss. For another touch.
But it didn't come.
He didn't kiss her.
Didn't touch her.
And that, somehow, crushed her more than any rejection ever could.
Shame flushed her cheeks. Of course it had been too good to be true. A creature as divine as him? Wanting her?
She lowered her gaze, fighting the lump of regret building in her throat. How foolish, she thought. How stupid to believe someone like him could be obsessed with someone like her.
Then she gasped—his lips found the mark on her neck.
He latched onto it like a predator claiming his prey, and the shock of pleasure that surged through her was so intense, tears pooled in her eyes. It didn't hurt. Not even a little. But the pleasure—it was paralyzing. Her legs moved on instinct, wrapping around his waist, locking him in place.
She tried to push him away.
But he held her tightly, firmly. She was trapped in the circle of his arms, trembling, overwhelmed.
And then, he found a rhythm.
His mouth moved along her neck with a purpose that sent her mind reeling. Every flick, every graze of his lips sent sparks down her spine. Her cries came out in broken gasps, her body arching into his touch.
"Wish…" he breathed her name against her skin.
"…Yes," she answered between soft cries.
"You have until tomorrow night," he whispered, curling her into his arms, "to prepare yourself to be taken by me."
She didn't understand what that meant. Not yet. But her body still burned, every nerve alive with the aftermath of his touch. His words lingered, echoing like a promise—or a warning.
"I will come for you. I will take you. And nothing will stand in the way of your rebirth or your eternity with me."