{CAROLINE}
"Feisty," Valerius said with approval. "You’re the first human girl who has ever dared to fight —and actually land a strike."
I flicked the dagger, settling into a defensive stance. My muscles scread with tension, every sense attuned to movent.
I had fought creatures of the dark before. But never like this. Never without my arcane.
Curse this school and its many restrictions. Humans were granted no special dispensation to defend ourselves—no allowances, no rcy—despite lacking the unnatural strength of the creatures who ruled the night.
We were expected to survive on wit and will alone, fragile bodies pitted against fangs and claws, as though resilience could substitute for power.
"I don’t want to kill you," I warned. "But if my life is threatened, I will not hesitate. A silver dagger through the heart will end even a noble vampire."
Valerius only grinned, utterly unimpressed. Humans were weak—that was what his kind believed. What they failed to understand was that weakness bred ingenuity.
My house had survived because we learned how to kill monsters, but it didn’t an that it would be an easy fight.
"This is becoming interesting," he purred. "I enjoy it when they struggle. It makes the hunt... exciting."
He lunged.
He was faster now, more savage, claws extending as he raked them across my dress. Fabric tore. Pain blood along my skin.
I hissed and rolled away, flinging garlic powder at the vampires closing in from either side. I barely managed to regain my footing before Valerius was before again.
He laughed as he dragged his claws across his tongue, savoring the blood he’d drawn. "Ah... virgin blood truly is divine," he said, voice thick with pleasure. "Did you know it differs from woman to woman? Of all I have tasted, yours is the finest."
I forced a smile, though my heart hamred violently in my chest. "How flattering," I replied. "Though coming from a pervert who preys on virgins, I’m not sure it qualifies as a complint."
His laughter rang out, dark and delighted.
I did not even have the ti to blink.
One mont, the air before was empty—thick with tension and the coppery scent of blood—and the next, he was upon once more.
Valerius appeared behind like a shadow torn from the dark itself. His grip was iron. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other yanked my wrists painfully behind my back. I gasped as my shoulders scread in protest.
I could not move. I could not escape. His strength was monstrous, far beyond anything human.
"Don’t struggle too much, sweetheart," he murmured against my ear, his voice smooth and indulgent, like a lover whispering a promise. "Or I will break your arms. The night is long... and I do not wish for you to die just yet."
His breath was cold against my skin.
I glared at him, fury burning hotter than my fear. I knew that noble vampires were stronger and more powerful than ordinary vampires, but Valerius was clearly a league of his own.
He laughed softly, sensing my thoughts as if they were written plainly across my face.
"Do not be so hasty, my dear," he said. "Once my fangs are inside your neck, you will feel nothing but pleasure. Euphoria. Ecstasy." His voice dipped lower. "You will beg for more."
My breath hitched—not from desire, but from fear that slowly crept in.
It escaped broken and sharp, the sound of soone standing on the edge of a precipice. Panic surged through my veins, scrambling my thoughts.
I reached for every trick I knew, every desperate plan my mind could conjure to escape—but it was already too late.
His fangs glead.
They descended—
"Augh!"
Pain exploded through my neck, white-hot and blinding. I scread, or tried to. The sound tore itself from my throat before dissolving into nothing.
Then—
Nothing made sense.
One mont, Valerius was holding captive, his mouth poised at my throat, and the next, his body was torn away from mine with violent force.
The sudden absence sent stumbling forward. I barely kept my footing as a thunderous crash echoed behind .
I spun around just in ti to see Valerius slamd into stone, his body skidding several ters away as though he weighed nothing at all.
"Didn’t I tell you..."
The voice cut through the chaos—low, calm, and devastatingly familiar.
My breath caught.
My eyes widened.
Standing behind was none other than Vladimir Nightborne.
". . . To not touch her."
The words were not loud. They did not need to be.
Only then did I realize that his hand rested firmly on my waist, steadying , anchoring to reality. He stood impossibly close behind .
I could feel the heat of him—real, undeniable warmth, so unlike the chill that clung to other vampires.
My mind faltered.
Vampires were cold.
Yet he was not.
I could not feel the full extent of his power—not because it wasn’t there, but because it was so perfectly restrained. It was like standing before a sleeping storm, knowing that devastation waited beneath the surface.
Valerius glared at him at first, fury flashing across his face.
Then recognition struck.
His expression shifted.
He straightened and exhaled sharply, irritation replacing arrogance. The two other vampires with him fell to their knees imdiately, bodies trembling, eyes cast downward as if they dared not even look upon Vladimir.
The air itself seed to bow.
"Looks like I wasn’t clear the first ti," Vladimir said.
His eyes changed.
Not red.
Not crimson.
They turned silver—bright and luminous, like moonlight reflected on still water.
It was breathtaking.
And terrifying at the sa ti.
"W-we’re sorry, Lord Vladimir!" the two vampires cried in unison.
Valerius only sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as though mildly inconvenienced. "We were only playing with her, Vlad. Why so serious?" His gaze slid to , sharp and assessing. "We’ve played with humans before. You never interfered. Why her?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
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