Artemis scoffed as she sank onto the bed. A flood of thoughts crashed into her mind as she tried to make sense of her current situation.
She had somehow been transported to a world completely opposite from hers—during a thunderstorm, no less. She'd ended up as a slave, and to make matters worse, she'd been bought by a narcissistic vampire.
Argh!
She groaned, pulling on her hair until it hurt.
I can't even leave this room without becoming someone's snack. Great.
A knock at the door interrupted her spiral. It opened a moment later.
"Young Master Alexander ordered me to provide you with something to eat. Also, he said the cup is off-limits," the butler said, placing the tray on the bedside table. His expression was unreadable as he turned and left.
Artemis eyed the tray and lifted the lid. Her stomach growled again and she sighed, picking up the plate. Then her gaze drifted to the cup.
She knew she shouldn't, but curiosity tugged at her. Why was it off-limits?
She glanced at the door, then back at the teacup. Slowly, she lifted the lid and peered inside. The liquid smelled sweet but was a deep, almost unnaturally red, and thick.
Strawberries? she thought, quickly replacing the lid before focusing on her food.
She devoured the meal hungrily—it had been so long since she'd had something that tasted normal. And this? This tasted like it was made by high-end chefs.
She hummed in appreciation and nodded to herself.
---
Meanwhile, Alexander sat at the long dining table with his family. After Robert had left with the payment, he'd been summoned for dinner. Unfortunately, he hadn't had a choice.
"So... Brother, where is this slave girl you spent a fortune on?" Cleopatra broke the silence, her tone light and mocking.
Alexander didn't even glance her way. Cleopatra instantly regretted speaking.
"She's off-limits," he said flatly, slicing his meat with elegant precision before putting it in his mouth.
Cleopatra scoffed. "Why would you keep her in your room? What if she has bugs from whatever shithole she came from—"
The fork came flying before she could finish the sentence. She caught it just in time, but it still grazed her neck. A second slower, and it would've been embedded.
It wouldn't kill her—but it would've hurt like hell.
Cleopatra paled visibly. She could never match her brother's speed.
"I'll use a knife next if you don't shut the fuck up. And don't think I've forgiven you for letting that tramp into my room," Alexander said coldly.
Cleopatra muffled a squeal and clamped her mouth shut.
"Your temperament hasn't been the best lately, son. Do you need a break from the council?" Ezra asked casually, sipping his blood tea.
Alexander merely glanced at him before signaling the butler.
"Desmine, take some food into the room for my pet and add some tea for me. Tell her not to touch the cup."
Everyone looked up at that.
Priscilla smiled faintly but said nothing.
Cleopatra, on the other hand, was seething. She didn't dare speak, though—not unless she had a death wish.
Who exactly is that bitch?
Alexander finished his food in silence, then stood.
"Goodnight," he said and left the dining hall.
---
He ascended the marble staircase toward his room, pausing only when he saw a maid.
"Get me a bunch of female nightwear. Not too big, not too small. Don't be late," he ordered, disappearing into his room.
The maid stood frozen for a second before scrambling off. She knew better than to be late with him.
Inside the room, Alexander paused.
Artemis was on the bed, furiously scratching her head.
He raised an eyebrow. Does she actually have bugs? Cleopatra's voice echoed in his mind.
Then Artemis began muttering to herself, completely unaware of his presence.
He chuckled.
"If you're trying to clean yourself, I'll gladly help you."
Artemis flinched at the sound of his amused voice. She looked up, startled, and stood from the bed.
Alexander shook his head with a smirk and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, the sound of running water filled the room.
She sighed and sat back down. Moments later, he emerged—and her eyes widened.
He wore a deep red velvet robe. His chest, bare and sculpted, was still damp, water trailing down in a way that made her ears burn. She quickly looked away.
Alexander folded his arms across his chest, amused.
"You're not as innocent as you look, little bunny."
"Little… bunny?" she echoed, scandalized.
"That's right. You remind me of a bunny—shy and feisty." He chuckled and walked to the bedside table.
A knock interrupted her sputtering, and he went to answer it. When he returned, he held a bag out toward her.
"Take this. You can't sleep in that shirt. I don't think I have that much self-control," he said with a smirk.
Artemis snatched the bag and bolted into the bathroom.
Inside, she changed and looked at herself in the mirror. The nightdress was comfortable and modest. It wasn't transparent, and it fit well.
She stepped out.
Alexander was sitting on the bed, writing in a book. When he looked up, his eyes swept over her.
"Hmm... looks good enough," he said flatly, then picked up his cup and sipped.
Artemis scowled. She had the irrational urge to shove that cup down his throat.
"You can't kill me, you know," he chuckled, noticing her glare. She looked away.
Alexander raised his eyes again.
"Why are you still standing there? Don't you sleep at night, little bunny? Come here."
"Huh?"
"I said come here," he repeated, patting the empty space on the bed beside him.
She stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
He sighed.
"I won't do anything. Not tonight. So come here and sleep. Or do I need to make you?"
He lay down and pulled the blanket up to his waist, chest still bare, eyes closed.
Reluctantly, Artemis tiptoed to the other side of the bed and lay down, leaving an unnecessary amount of space between them.
What did he mean by 'not tonight'?
She turned her head slightly. He lay on his back, eyes closed.
Is… he asleep? she wondered.
Then the exhaustion hit her all at once, and her head sank into the pillow. She was out before she could think any further.
---
Alexander opened his eyes.
He listened to her soft breathing, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
He turned his head to look at her.
Then, without a word, he closed the distance between them.
She smelled like his shampoo and soap. Strangely… comforting.
He still didn't understand why he'd bought her. Or why she was sleeping in his bed like she belonged there.
She looked completely out cold—like she hadn't had proper rest in days.
His eyes flicked to the tattoo near her collarbone. There was something… strange about it. Something that tugged at a feeling he couldn't name.
Alexander exhaled slowly and closed his eyes, finally letting sleep take him.