Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man Chapter 35: Consumed

Clare’s POV:

The mont Blaze realized I was a girl, sothing in him shifted. It wasn’t just shock—it was sothing worse. Like a predator realizing its prey was far more tempting than it first appeared. His whole deanor changed, his expression slipping into sothing unreadable, sothing I didn’t want to decipher.

He had told to wash up, practically sneering about how I reeked of the aftermath with Reed. But could I really call it sex? My mouth had been violated, used in a way that felt chanical, dehumanizing. I had heard my friends whisper about it before, laughing, sharing stories. But this...this had been nothing like that. This had been power, force, and sothing far more primal. And now Blaze was looking at as if I had just transford into a prize he had already won.

The second he disappeared, I had thought—hoped—that maybe, just maybe, I had ti. Ti to shower quickly and slip away before he ca back. But I had underestimated a vampire’s speed.

Because one mont I was rinsing the soap from my skin, trying to scrub off the filth that still clung to , and the next—

I felt him.

Not heard. Not saw. Felt.

A shift in the air. The weight of sothing that wasn’t supposed to be there. A predator standing too close.

I snapped my eyes open, my breath freezing in my throat.

Blaze stood right in front of , completely still, watching.

His red eyes drank in, slow and deliberate. Like he was etching the image into his mind, carving it there with jagged, obsessive strokes.

Panic hit like a slap. My hands flew up to cover myself as I stumbled back, slipping slightly against the wet tiles.

He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.

He just smirked.

And that was sohow more terrifying than if he had lunged.

I was trapped.

My body moved on instinct. The mont I saw the clothes hanging behind him, I lunged—a desperate attempt to grab sothing, anything, that could cover .

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Blaze snatched the bundle away before my fingers could so much as graze the fabric. His grip was iron, his expression dark with amusent. He was playing with . Like a cat with a half-dead mouse.

I swallowed hard, taking a step back, but the cold tile against my bare skin reminded there was nowhere to go.

"You think you can just put these on?" His voice was low, smooth, but there was an edge to it. A quiet threat wrapped in velvet. "Who told you that you were allowed to get dressed?"

His words coiled around like barbed wire.

I opened my mouth—to argue, to beg, I wasn’t even sure—but before I could speak, sothing was shoved into my hands.

A toothbrush.

"Brush."

It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

I stared at it, at him, confusion warring with the overwhelming sense of dread curling in my stomach.

He wasn’t looking at like a person.

He was looking at like sothing to be corrected.

I brushed my teeth, his eyes never leaving my mouth.

The whole ti.

Watching. Studying. Possessing.

The bristles scraped against my gums as I hurried through it, my hands shaking slightly. The taste of mint was a relief—a sharp contrast to the filth I could still feel lingering on .

But I barely had ti to spit before his lips crashed onto mine.

I didn’t even see him move.

A startled noise got caught in my throat—half gasp, half whimper. My body went rigid, the cold air of the shower forgotten. This wasn’t what I expected.

I thought he’d drink from . That was what he did, right? That was what monsters like him did. They sucked you dry and left you with just enough to crawl away.

And then he started kissing my neck nibbling and I knew what happens next.

I braced for the pain, for the sharp puncture of his fangs slicing into my skin.

And he bit .

But this ti... this ti it was different.

There was no searing pain. No sense of my life being drained from my veins.

This felt like sothing else. Sothing worse.

It was a slow, dragging pull, like being unraveled from the inside out. Like he was taking sothing from —but leaving sothing behind.

And then, it hit .

A rush.

A dizzying, all-consuming need.

Like a drug. But more potent than anything I had ever touched.

It pooled in my stomach, lower, twisting into sothing unfamiliar—sothing wrong.

And his hands—God, his hands—were everywhere.

Fondling. Squeezing. Claiming.

I gasped against his lips, my mind torn between confusion, sha, and sothing my body didn’t quite understand.

I wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

This wasn’t supposed to feel good.

I was spiraling.

My mind scread that sothing was wrong—terribly, horribly wrong—but my body?

My body was betraying .

A feverish heat coiled inside , tightening like a noose, spreading from where his lips had pressed against my skin, where his fangs had scraped into my flesh. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow.

This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t .

But when he kissed again?

I lted.

A soft, broken sound slipped from my lips, and God help , I kissed him back.

He made a low, pleased noise in the back of his throat—a dark chuckle, like he had expected this, like he had been waiting for to surrender.

I didn’t even realize I had grabbed onto his arms until I felt the iron-hard muscle beneath my trembling fingers.

I should pull away. I should fight.

But my head was spinning, my legs weak.

Why did this feel so good?

Blaze pulled closer, and my bare, wet skin collided with his.

Too close.

I gasped against his mouth as sothing hard and hot pressed against my stomach. My entire body jolted at the realization, but instead of disgust, instead of panic, a strange shiver ran up my spine.

What was happening to ?

Blaze laughed.

Low. Husky. Triumphant.

"Oh, pet," he murmured, dragging his lips along my jaw, down my throat where my pulse thundered beneath his mouth.

His fingers ghosted down my side, feather-light but possessive. Testing. Teasing.

My breath hitched, and I didn’t know if it was from fear or sothing else.

Sothing much, much worse.

Blaze humd, and I felt his smile against my neck.

"That’s adorable."

And then he bit down.

Not deep. Not enough to drink.

But enough to remind exactly who he was.

And exactly what I was becoming.

******

I don’t know when it happened.

One mont, I was trying to grasp reality, trying to remind myself that this wasn’t normal, that I shouldn’t feel this way. That I shouldn’t want—

And then his hand was between my legs.

I jolted, a strangled sound tearing from my throat, but he didn’t stop.

Didn’t hesitate.

I couldn’t think. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, every nerve alight, burning, betraying .

He whispered sothing against my ear, sothing low and indecipherable, his breath hot against my skin, and my body trembled in response.

A pressure—tight, unbearable, overwhelming—coiled deep inside , winding tighter and tighter until I thought I might shatter.

And then—

I did.

A sharp cry left my lips as a wave of sothing—sothing terrifying, sothing intoxicating—ripped through . My vision blurred, my legs barely able to hold upright.

I might have collapsed had he not caught .

And then, sohow, I was bent over.

I couldn’t even rember how it happened, but I was helpless beneath him, against him. My breath ca in short, desperate gasps, my head swimming from the lingering euphoria he had forced out of .

And then—he was inside.

A sharp, overwhelming stretch, a feeling so foreign I gasped.

God—what was happening to ?

His grip was tight, his touch branding. My skin burned where he held . He murmured things I didn’t understand, words slipping between dark groans and breathless praises.

And when that wave crashed over again, when I felt myself spiral into that abyss a second ti, I think I might have cried out his na.

Before the world blinked into darkness.