No Biting.. No murdering

It began with blood.

Not the spilling kind. The craving kind.

"I want food," I muttered, dramatically flopping onto the divan near the window. "Blood. Thick, rich, red—preferably straight from a neck. Not the bottled crap they serve to nobles."

Iria, lounging on the armrest beside me, snorted. "Would you like a silver platter with that, Your Craven Highness?"

I rolled onto my back and draped my arm over my forehead. "Don't tempt me. If they served blood like that, I'd finally attend Council dinners."

You're insufferable," Iria whispered, brushing her fingers over the hidden hilt tucked in her sleeve. "We've moved on from real blood, you know. Synthblood, cocktails, hemogels, noble plasma—hell, even ceremonial blends.

You still want the real thing? What are you, a relic??

I tilted my head. "Relics are rare. Rare things are priceless."

Auron stood by the entrance like a statue, stiff in that over-disciplined way he always was. Guard duty. Always alert. Always... too serious.

He was the perfect statue of loyalty and discipline, silver-eyed and impossibly stiff.

Too stiff.

And unfortunately for him—I was bored.

A dangerous thing, boredom. Especially for someone like me.

My eyes flicked to Iria, who already sensed the spark of mischief lighting in my mind. I didn't even have to say anything.

"No," she said flatly.

"Oh, come on—"

"Selene," she warned, but she was grinning. "You want to prank Auron? The guy who literally tackled a rogue assassin without blinking?"

"He's too easy to mess with," I whispered. "So proper. So... upright. Doesn't even blink around me."

"Because he's terrified of getting demoted if you bite him."

I raised an eyebrow. "So... he is scared of me?"

"No," she said. "He's terrified for you."

That made me pause. But only for a heartbeat.

"Even better," I whispered with a grin. "Watch this."

Before Iria could stop me, I moved—silent as shadow, fast as instinct. Auron didn't even hear me until I was already behind him.

He turned just as I leaned in and sank my fangs—not too deep, barely a prick—into the nape of his neck.

He flinched, but didn't shove me off. Just stiffened completely.

"Damn," I said, licking my lips theatrically. "Your blood is surprisingly... not awful."

His neck turned red, whether from pain, embarrassment, or fury, I wasn't sure. Iria howled in the background.

"Selene—what the hell—" Auron growled, hand twitching toward his weapon but stopping himself.

I stepped back, wiped the blood dramatically with the back of my hand, and spun.

"I'm the true vampire!" I announced in mock triumph, arms raised. "All hail me! Bow before my thirst!"

Iria laughed so hard she dropped her dagger.

Auron exhaled like he was counting every reason not to report me to the Council.

"She's a menace," he muttered.

"Menace?" I echoed, turning to Iria. "Was that what you were going to say earlier?"

"No," Iria said, her voice dripping with playful disdain. "I was going to say—you possess the exquisite madness of a bygone monarch."

I placed a hand to my chest, eyes glinting.

"Then crown me with thorns and call it a reign. I shall drink like royalty and smile as kingdoms burn."

Auron gave me a long look. "You realize if anyone else bit a royal guard—"

"I am a royal," I said sweetly. "And technically, I outrank you."

"I could file a complaint."

"You won't."

He didn't respond.

Because he wouldn't. He never did. No matter how much I pushed, tested, teased. Deep down, I knew Auron wasn't afraid of me. He was afraid for me. Always watching for threats in the shadows, always on edge like something was coming I couldn't see.

And maybe... maybe he wasn't wrong.

"I swear to the old gods, you two are absolutely incorrigible," Iria huffed, flicking a smudge of blood off her boot with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. "We are confined, not cavorting at a masquerade. Have you both lost what little sense the gods granted you?"

Auron straightened, feigning offense as he adjusted his already perfect collar. "She's the one who started it"

I reclined farther on the velvet-lined bench, crossing my legs with a languid grace. "He liked it."

"I tolerated it," he muttered. "Barely."

Iria's eyes rolled so hard I thought they'd escape their sockets. "Heaven deliver me from brooding men and bloodthirsty princesses."

Before I could reply with something charmingly inappropriate, Iria's posture stiffened, her eyes darting to the door.

"Oh, bloody stars," she whispered dramatically, "he's returned."

She stood at once, smoothing her skirts. "Compose yourselves. Stand straight. Look less... guilty."

A sharp knock resounded through the chamber.

The door creaked open, revealing a junior officer cloaked in the stiff, colorless robes of the Council. Two guards lingered behind him, eyes sharp but bored.

"Just checking in," he said with a voice dipped in artificial courtesy. "To ensure all is... well."

I rose smoothly, letting every movement drip with the kind of elegance that masked my annoyance.

"My definition of comfort differs greatly from yours, Officer," I said coolly. "But yes, we're intact. No biting. No murdering. No dramatic fainting spells."

Auron coughed.

The officer's brow twitched. "Right. I'll inform the Council."

He hesitated. Just for a second. Eyes lingering on the chamber's far corner—as if he felt it too.

Something watching.

Something not of this world.

Then he left.

Iria let out a long breath. "Good heavens. I thought he'd sniff out the sarcasm dripping off your every word."

"He almost did." Auron muttered, pacing. "You shouldn't provoke them."

I wasn't listening.

I hadn't stopped listening—to that silence.

"I didn't see anyone," I murmured, my voice lower than intended.

They both turned.

"But I felt someone."

The air in the chamber chilled.

"A presence in the dark. Not human. Not vampire. Something... else. It vanished the moment Adrastan's body fell. Like a ripple smoothing back into still water."

Auron said nothing. Iria stared.

My mind flashed back—

"You're certain?" the official had asked earlier.

Silence.

I had tilted my head, just so, letting the chandelier's gold light catch the crimson burn of my eyes.

"I'm not prone to hallucinations, Councillor Rohen," I said. "If I'd seen a killer, I would have stopped them."

Lie .

Then I smiled—barely. Just enough to make him shift on his feet. Uneasy.

Another lie.

I wouldn't have stopped them.

Not if they killed like that.

Not if they painted the floor in poetry and carved silence into flesh.

It was thrilling.

And devastating.

And I didn't know why.

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