{IRIS}
"Did your pack treat you like a slave?"
I hesitated before shaking my head. "A servant," I corrected softly. But a slave nevertheless. "It was my fate as a weak oga . . . as an unshifted."
For a mont, there was nothing but the sound of the rain pattering against the windows, the occasional crack of thunder rolling in the distance.
Then, his voice ca again—quieter this ti.
"And your parents?"
I hesitated.
"I don’t know them," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was adopted by a family of gammas, but they died when I was young . . . leaving in the orphanage."
A long pause followed.
". . . Is that so."
His voice gave away nothing. No sympathy, no judgnt. Just quiet acknowledgnt.
Suddenly, I felt foolish. I had told him too much, burdened him with my tragic past when he likely had no interest in it.
I shifted, forcing a small, awkward laugh as I changed the subject. "Uhm . . . are you here for blood, my Lord?" I asked hesitantly. "I-I’m sorry, I should go wash up first. I must still sll of mud and sweat."
His gaze remained fixed on .
Then, he said simply—
"Don’t bother."
And just like that, he was gone.
A sudden gust of cold wind rushed through the room in his absence, flickering the candlelight. I stared at the now-empty bed, my mind racing.
What was he doing here in the first place?
Then, sothing caught my attention.
The blanket wrapped around .
I hadn’t taken it with when I moved to the floor. I had left it on the bed.
A slow realization settled over , my heart picking up pace.
Could Lord Val have . . . ?
Cautiously, I lifted the fabric to my face, inhaling the faint scent lingering on it. A dark, intoxicating fragrance—subtle hints of cedarwood and sothing distinctly him.
I bit my lip, warmth creeping into my cheeks.
He had covered with this.
Why?
He was dangerous. Intimidating. A vampire whose very existence demanded reverence and fear. I was nothing more than a guest—no, a prisoner, ant to serve as his source of blood.
And yet . . .
Why was he showing such kindness?
I clutched the blanket closer, my fingers curling into the soft fabric.
"He’s such a mystery . . . ," I whispered to myself, the words barely audible over the distant rumble of thunder.
And sohow . . .
I found myself wanting to understand him.
I hadn’t slept since he left.
Instead, I lay awake, my mind restless, tangled in thoughts of silver eyes and whispered words. Of a vampire whose presence unsettled in ways I didn’t understand.
And then, there was Lorcan . . . and the stranger who had taken care of in the cave.
Lorcan must be married to Ember by now. They must have sealed their vows, their bodies entwined beneath the moonlight, consummated their marriage.
A sharp, aching pain spread through my chest, twisting like a blade. I rolled onto my side, curling in on myself as silent tears spilled onto the floor.
He was no longer mine to long for. No longer mine to love.
And yet, my heart still bled for him.
Eventually, I gave up on sleep entirely.
I needed to clean myself. It felt like ages since I had. I forced myself to get up and took a shower.
The bath was vast—almost excessive—with polished black marble and a tub large enough to drown in. Warm water filled it in an instant, scented with sothing faintly floral. I stepped in, sinking into the heat, letting it soothe away the lingering tension in my muscles.
The water rippled around as I exhaled, staring at the high, ornate ceiling. It was strange. Being here. Being his blood blank.
Why did I agree to it?
I had no answers, only the faint mory of cold hands draping a blanket over in the night.
Lorcan and Ember must be happy right now, wrapped in each other’s arms, living the life that was never ant for .
And I . . . I had been reduced to this—a fate I never imagined.
In exchange for shelter and food, I would beco a vampire’s blood bank—our mortal enemy.
A hollow sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes, sinking deeper into the warm water. I let it consu , hoping—just for a mont—that it could wash away the bitterness, the grief, the unbearable weight of what I had lost.
After I finished bathing, I moved toward the wardrobe, pulling it open—only to freeze at the sight inside.
Dresses and clothes.
Dozens of them, all luxurious and so modern, all in different shades of silk, lace, cotton, and leather. My fingers trailed over the fabrics hesitantly, my stomach twisting with an odd feeling.
Had Lord Val brought other won here before?
The thought made sothing uncomfortable settle in my chest.
Shrugging it off, I picked a simple black dress, slipping it over my skin. The fabric was softer than anything I had ever worn before, falling against my body like a whisper.
A sudden knock on the door made jump.
When I opened it, Sebastian stood there, expression as unreadable as ever. His long, white beard and sharp brows gave him a severe appearance, but his presence was not unkind.
"Miss Iris," he greeted, his voice deep and formal. "My Lord has requested that you join him for breakfast."
I blinked.
"Breakfast?" My gaze flickered toward the window, where rain still poured relentlessly. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the night as dark as ever. "But it’s still—"
"Night," Sebastian finished. "Do not be surprised, my lady. All Bloodline Vampires keep their lairs hidden in a separate dinsion. There is no day here. Only eternal darkness . . . rain . . . and thunder."
My lips parted slightly. "Oh . . ." Talk about being gloomy.
The idea was both fascinating and unsettling. A world swallowed by the night, untouched by the sun.
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