CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The club's relentless thump faded as I shut the apartment door behind me. The stale air, tinged with the metallic tang of the previous night's blood cocktails, hung heavy. My eyes, though adjusted to the dimness of the club, strained against the encroaching dawn seeping through the uv protection on the windows.

And then I saw her.

Ellie.

Sitting on my couch, bathed in the ghostly glow of her phone screen. Her beautiful blue eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were soft, a little tired, but undeniably present. A tentative smile touched her lips as she looked up. Gods, she was beautiful.

I closed the distance, the scent of her, a sweet, innocent mix of lilies and sunshine, filling my senses. I settled beside her, the springs of the couch groaning softly under my weight.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice low, a bare rumble in my chest.

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of concern. She set her phone down, the silence amplifying the subtle flutter of her pulse against my arm. I could hear it, the frantic thump-thump-thump of her heart accelerating. Anxiety, no doubt. I hated that I was causing her this unease.

"Lucian and I had a discussion," I started, choosing my words carefully. "He reminded me of…important details."

Ellie sat patiently, her gaze fixed on my face, waiting.

I continued, "There's no way we can...be intimate, Ellie, without triggering something primal in me. A certain…hunger. Arousal intensifies it, exponentially. I proved that the other night, didn't I?"

My fingers traced the curve of her thigh, hovering just above her jeans. I could practically feel the heat radiating from the memory of that bite.

Ellie's hand instinctively went to her thigh, her fingers tracing the faint outline of the two puncture marks. "So…you'll have to bite me every time?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded slowly. "Not for long. Just a sip each time. Enough to keep the beast at bay. Enough to keep you safe."

She fell silent, her gaze drifting towards the cityscape. The early morning light painted the scene in shades of grey and rose. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing the implications, the risks.

The silence stretched, each second an eternity. My own heart pounded in my chest, a discordant rhythm against the thrumming in my ears. If she said no, I'd glamour her, erase all memories, send her home. It would be the only responsible thing to do. But the thought, the mere possibility, crushed me with a force I hadn't anticipated.

Finally, she turned back to me, her blue eyes clear, unwavering. "Okay."

My breath hitched. "You're sure?" The question was a stupid one, born of disbelief. I half-expected her to retract it, to laugh it off as a joke.

Her expression didn't waver. "I trust you."

Those two words, simple and profound, hit me harder than any physical blow. Trust. A commodity I rarely received, certainly didn't deserve. Yet, here she was, offering it to me freely.

I knew I wasn't being entirely honest with her. There was more to say, a crucial piece of the puzzle I was still holding back. But the words seemed to catch in my throat, choked by a mixture of guilt and fear.

Ellie, perceptive as always, was reading my face. "What else?" she prompted softly.

I let out a long, weary sigh. "It's Lucian."

Her brow furrowed. "He doesn't approve?"

"Yes and no." I hedged, running a hand through my hair. "It's more complicated than that."

"How so?"

I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "I told you about our...relationship, right? How we were everything to each other, from the beginning. That hasn't changed."

Ellie sat there, absorbing my words, her expression unreadable. Ten agonizing minutes passed before realization dawned on her face, a faint blush creeping up her neck.

"Everything? As in...you two fuck each other?"

I simply nodded, unable to meet her gaze.

"It's more than just 'fucking'," I said, my voice tight. "We share. You see, vampires aren't monogamous beings. We enjoy multiple partners. Especially when we are intimate with humans…"

I finally looked at her. Her face was pale, but she was holding it together. I pressed on, needing to be honest, no matter how painful.

"When we are...intimate, we lose control. It's safest for the human, if we intend to let it live, if there is another vampire involved."

Realization dawned on her face, a dawning horror mixed with a strange curiosity. "So…you mean…I would have to have sex with you…and Lucian?"

I met her gaze, my face a mask of seriousness. "Not all the time." I added, the words sounding weak even to my own ears

Ellie just stared at me, her lips slightly parted, searching for words that wouldn't come.

The sun was climbing higher, its pale light beginning to burn with a touch of intensity. It was time. Time to give her space, time to let her decide.

I stood up, my joints aching from the night's exertions. "Take the day to think about this, Ellie. If you agree to these terms, remain here. Order whatever you like to eat, from anywhere. If you don't, I ask that you leave before I wake."

I took her hand, pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, and then turned towards my bedroom, leaving her alone with the weight of my impossible proposition. I wasn't physically tired, but the exhaustion ran bone deep. I knew that I had to give her space. I closed the door behind me, and the next few hours would be the longest of my life.

Sleep was a cruel mistress that morning, my mind a relentless loop of the conversation we had. Every word, every inflection, every unspoken feeling dissected and replayed until I was raw with it. Just when I was about to surrender and climb out of bed, resigned to a night of pacing, the door creaked open.

My head snapped up. Ellie.

I shot up in bed, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. She walked towards me, a silent predator in the dim light of the room. Then she started to undress.

Each piece of clothing she discarded was like a layer of my sanity being peeled away. I watched, captivated and terrified, as she exposed her perfect skin. I could see the hard peaks of her nipples, betraying her arousal as clearly as a shout. The air thickened, filled with the intoxicating scent of her desire.

She reached for the blanket covering me, and that was it. I couldn't just let this happen without a word. I grabbed her wrist, my grip surprisingly tight.

"What are you doing?" I asked, the words rough and strained, barely a whisper. It wasn't a matter of not wanting it; God, I wanted it more than I could articulate. But I needed to understand. I needed to know what was going through her mind, what had driven her to this.

She met my gaze, her eyes dark and unfathomable. "I'm giving you my answer," she said, her voice low and husky.

I stared into her eyes, searching for something, anything, that would make sense of this. And then, slowly, I released her wrist.

The blanket slid to the floor, revealing me as I was, naked and hard. Her eyes looked down, and I saw a flicker of something akin to triumph in her gaze. She licked her lips, and her hand moved instinctively, possessively.

The warmth of her hand, the pressure of her fingers, sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure through me. She leaned down and kissed me, a slow, deliberate kiss that tasted of want and desperation. I grabbed her hair, holding her head in place as our tongues wrestled, the kiss growing more forceful, more demanding.

Then I felt it. The familiar, yet always shocking, surge of power, the shift in my teeth. My fangs extended, sharp and deadly.

I pulled her face back, my breath catching in my throat.

She gasped, but not in fear. In… excitement? Her hand, still wrapped around me, moved feverishly, her grip tightening, my hips bucking involuntarily. I knew I wouldn't cum. I could hold it back. I wanted to feel her on my dick. I move her head down and she takes me with her mouth. The warmth blistering hot running through me. She sucked me like she was trying to get water out of sand. My vision blurred.

The primal urges clawed at the surface, threatening to consume me. I wanted to fuck her mouth as hard as I could, to lose myself in the raw, untamed desire. But if I did, she wouldn't have a head left.

"This is dangerous," I say, my voice strained, barely a whisper against the rising tide of my hunger. I push her back slightly, fighting the instinct to drag her closer, to bury myself deep within her.

Ellie's eyes are wide, pupils dilated, reflecting the scarlet glow that dances in my own. She's breathing hard, her chest heaving with each ragged inhale. The vulnerability in her gaze, the raw, untamed desire, is a potent aphrodisiac, fueling the beast within.

"I know," she whispers back, her voice trembling but resolute. "But I want this, Kaelen. I want you.

Those words, a siren's call, almost break me. The desire to protect her wars with the primal urge to possess, to claim her completely. I grip her shoulders, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, trying to anchor myself, to regain control.

"You don't understand," I rasp, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "What I am…what I can do…it's not safe."

"Then make it safe," she challenges, her voice gaining strength. "You said you could. You said a sip, enough to keep the hunger at bay. Do it."

Her unwavering trust, her unwavering faith in my restraint, is both a weapon and a shield. It fuels my desire, pushing me closer to the edge, but it also reminds me of the responsibility I hold. I can't let her down. I won't.

I take a shaky breath, focusing on the simple act of inhaling and exhaling, trying to calm the storm raging within me. The scent of her arousal, the soft warmth of her skin, is a constant torment, but I push it back, forcing myself to think rationally.

"Lie down," I command, my voice losing some of its harshness.

She obeys without question, stretching out on the bed, her eyes never leaving mine. The pale morning light casts long shadows across her body, highlighting the soft curve of her breasts, the delicate line of her collarbone. Every inch of her is an invitation, a provocation.

I climb onto the bed, my movements slow and deliberate, trying to control the predatory grace that comes so naturally to me. I hover above her, my shadow falling over her, the air thick with unspoken desires and unspoken fears.

"Tell me to stop," I say, my voice a low rumble in my chest. "If it becomes too much, if you feel uncomfortable, say the word. I'll stop."

Ellie reaches up and gently strokes my face, her touch both soothing and electrifying. "I trust you," she repeats, her voice soft but firm.

Her trust is a double-edged sword, empowering me but also heightening the stakes. I have to be perfect. I have to be in control.

I lean down, my lips brushing against her neck, the delicate skin beneath her ear. I can feel her pulse throbbing frantically, a frantic drumbeat that mirrors the rhythm of my own heart.

"This will hurt," I warn, my voice barely a whisper.

She nods, her eyes closed, bracing herself for the inevitable.

I hesitate for a moment, gathering my strength, focusing all my will on restraining the beast within. Then, with a deep breath, I bare my fangs and gently, carefully, sink them into her flesh.

The pain is sharp, a searing fire that races through her veins. She gasps, her body arching against the mattress, but she doesn't cry out, doesn't tell me to stop.

I drink slowly, deliberately, taking only what I need, just enough to quell the raging hunger, just enough to regain control. The taste of her blood is intoxicating, a sweet, metallic nectar that threatens to consume me.

But I hold back, fighting the urge to drain her dry, to lose myself in the ecstasy of the moment. I focus on her, on the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips, on the soft sound of her breathing.

After what feels like an eternity, I pull back, releasing her from my embrace. Two small puncture wounds mark her neck, oozing a thin trail of blood. I lick them clean, closing the wounds with a touch, soothing the pain with my saliva.

Ellie lies still, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She looks pale, fragile, but undeniably alive.

I lean back, watching her, waiting for her reaction.

Slowly, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me, her gaze filled with a mixture of pain, fear, and, surprisingly, a hint of satisfaction.

"That wasn't so bad," she says, her voice a little raspy.

I stare at her, incredulous. "Are you okay?"

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'm fine. Just…lightheaded."

I reach out and gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "I'm sorry," I say, my voice full of remorse. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know," she says, squeezing my hand. "But you did it. You controlled yourself."

Her words are a balm to my soul, a confirmation that I am capable of being in control, that I am capable of deserving her trust.

"So, what now?" she asks, breaking the silence.

I look at her, at her beautiful, trusting face, and I know that I can't lie to her anymore. I can't keep holding back.

"Now," I say, taking a deep breath, "we wait for Lucian."