The storm rages outside, wind howling through the cracks in the wooden walls of the vampire's home. The fire flickers in the stone hearth, casting elongated shadows along the walls, but its warmth does little to ease the chill that has settled deep within me.
I shouldn't be here.
I should have kept running, storm or not.
But exhaustion weighs on my limbs, and the vampire—he watches me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
"You should rest," he says, his voice smooth, almost too gentle for a creature like him. "You won't make it far if you collapse on the road."
I glare at him. "I don't need your help."
His lips quirk in amusement. "That's not what your body is saying." He tilts his head slightly, his crimson eyes dark with something unreadable. "You're trembling."
I hate that he's right.
Still, I refuse to trust him.
"Stay away from me," I warn.
His smirk fades, and something shifts in the air between us. A subtle pressure, like invisible hands curling around my mind. My vision blurs for a split second before sharpening again, and suddenly, the firelight seems more golden, the shadows more welcoming.
I blink rapidly, my breath catching in my throat.
"What—?"
"You're exhausted," he murmurs, stepping closer. "Let me help."
His voice slides over me like silk, sinking into my skin, my blood. My chest tightens.
I step back, but my limbs feel heavy, my resistance slipping like sand through my fingers.
A spell. A love spell.
He's doing something to me.
"Stop," I whisper, my voice unsteady.
He smiles, slow and deliberate. "Why would I?"
I can feel it now, like a fog wrapping around my mind. My heart stutters, a strange warmth blooming in my chest, something foreign, something wrong. I shouldn't want this. I shouldn't want him.
But his presence pulls at me, tugs at something deep inside, something primal.
"You fight too much," he murmurs, lifting a hand to my cheek. I flinch, but I don't pull away. His fingers are cold, but his touch is deliberate, confident. "Why do you resist?"
I struggle to speak, to think. But the spell is working, pressing down on me like a heavy weight.
I shouldn't want him.
I shouldn't.
And yet…
A small part of me wonders what would happen if I gave in.
Before I can stop myself, my hands clutch his collar, and I crash my lips against his—heat, desperation, and something I can't control consuming me whole.
His smile widens into a grin as I lean in and capture his lips with mine. He meets my kiss with fervor, his cool mouth moving against my warmer one with a hunger that steals my breath away. His fingers tangle into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss as his other hand grips your hip more firmly.
He kisses me like a man starved, like he's been craving the taste of me his whole lifetime. His tongue delves into my mouth, stroking along mine and coaxing me to respond in kind. I can feel the sharp points of his fangs grazing my bottom lip. I can feel every hard inch of his body pressed against mine, his arousal evident and pressing insistently against my stomach.
He pulls me onto the bed with effortless strength, his touch burning through the thin fabric of my clothes. My mind screams that something is wrong, but my body betrays me, drawn to him in a way I can't fight.
He crawls over me with a predatory grace, his gaze hungry and admiring. The mattress dips under his weight as he settles himself between my thighs, his hips nestling against mine in a way that makes my breath hitch.
He leans down to capture my lips in a searing kiss, one hand coming up to cup my cheek tenderly. The other hand trails down my side, his fingers skimming over my skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When he breaks the kiss, he takes a moment to simply look at me, his eyes roaming over my face with a soft, almost reverent expression.
"I could stare at your face for hours," he murmurs, tracing the curve of my bottom lip with his thumb. "You're beautiful. More beautiful than any painting I've ever seen."