4. Four

Fate was an odd force of divinity. It moved through the world randomly, but there was a purpose in every twist and bend.

I suppose it was this power of inevitable destiny that brought the unconscious male into my jail cell.

The guards tossed him on the vacant cot, and the springs moaned under his weight. Limbs sprawled, and his high cheekbones were stained with dirt and blood. But no wounds were visible.

Every inch of him appeared to have gone through a war. Dozens of holes riddled his clothing and boots. His dark hair was tousled and fell haphazardly over his eyes.

The cell door slid shut, and the enchanted locks clicked. Darkness returned as the guards took the lantern with them. Pushing up off the cot I reclined on, his potent scent filled my nose. Warm, husky, and a tang of iron swarmed within it. I detected his blood along with others.

Just how long had it been since I’d fed? Weeks? Months? Time was nonexistent in that place, but I didn’t mind. The longer I stayed, the stronger my hope of being forgotten became.

It was odd that they’d place such a warm-blooded body in my cell. Did they forget what I was? Or instead—did they not care?

My nails sharpened, and my gums ached with need. Standing now, I could hardly resist the desire to inspect him further. He was not particularly muscular, but his body was toned and well-kept, and his skin looked impossibly soft. Kneeling before him, I examined his hands. There were no calluses or scars. This man didn’t work a day in his life, and I couldn’t help but see the similarity in my own fingers.

The main difference was the fact I had no choice in the matter.

Like a prized possession, my kin kept me out of the light. The only labor I’d been allowed was an occasional hunt with my brother. Hunting didn’t toughen the hands—only one’s resolve.

His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his upper lip was dusted with a few days of growth, as was his strong chin. The growing beard intrigued me, as I could never have one of my own. It drew my attention to his mouth. Two beds of plump satin. What words would come from them? This human.

Inching closer, I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart pumping all that I desired through his veins and calling to the primal instinct in my vacant chest.

Hunger.

Need.

Instinct.

He stirred. Black eyebrows pinched together, and the apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed, drawing my attention to the thick cord of an artery pressing against his flesh.

I wanted him. I wanted his blood. His skin pierced under my bite. But most of all—I wanted his life. The very essence that warmed him and fed his organs.

Even closer now, my lips parted, fangs elongated, and nails sharpened to points. This would not be a chase or a satisfying capture, but he was there—and I’d have him.

Just as my fangs pierced his skin, he moaned.

“Whatever you’re doing is fantastic. Keep going.” Then a wild hand grabbed mine, and he instantly placed it on his cock.

Startled, I flinched and retreated quickly to my cot. He sprung up, and his soft waves cast shadows over his nose and eyes, masking their color. “Don’t run. I was really into that,” he whined dramatically before rolling his head around.

“I was not attempting to seduce you.” I was cross. What perverted deviant did they stuff in here?

He cracked his neck and stood. Quickly looking me over, he shrugged and then headed to the bars. “Well, isn’t this just syrup on a waffle?”

“What?” I scowled. Perverted, insane, deviant.

“Yoo-hoo! Where is my breakfast? Oh, come on, don’t keep a man starving! I’ve been here for years! I’ll die here and now if I don’t have a plate of biscuits, bacon, and eggs—maybe a coffee! I take it black—no cream,” he ranted, screaming into the echoey hall.

This would not do. I’d have to eat him. I could not follow through on my plans with that sort of maniacal human drawing attention to me.

“If you value your life, I suggest you silence yourself,” I snapped.

He gave me a comical look, which I found…unsettling. He swiveled to face me entirely while I took in his impressive height. It did not match my own, though.

What a unique human.

“What are you having? Let me guess. A parfait and a cup of tea?”

I cocked a brow. “Tea? You are not considering the gravity of your situation. Allow me to show you.” I moved faster than he could react and then latched my fangs into his jugular.

Thick, rich, and deliciously sweet blood pooled on my tongue as its warmth slid down my throat. I must have pushed myself past the point of starvation because his blood tasted better than anything I”d ever had.

Every sense tripled in intensity. My sight became more precise, and I could hear the guard down the hall breathing. Digging my nails into the back of his head, I cradled him close. It would take mere moments before he teetered on the precipice of death. Death I longed to bring forth. Life surged through me as all my strength returned.

Lost in my feed—a hard, pulsating stab pressed into my thigh. Was that?

“Fuck,” he breathed, grinding his pelvis into mine.

Ice. It all became ice.

Releasing him instantly, I reeled back. He appeared baffled and oddly curious, with his piercing green eyes swirling with lust.

“Forget breakfast. Do that again.” His pupils dilated, and he raised his chin to reveal more of his neck. “Come on, big boy, that was sublime.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t speak and could hardly think as the taste of this human”s impeccable blood still saturated my tongue. Within mere minutes, he’d been immune to what I was, and not only was he completely unafraid, he was aroused instead. This was not my attempt at taking a lover. He should have died. By all logic, he shouldn’t even be able to stand with how much I took.

“What are you?” I narrowed my eyes, and he gave me a cheeky grin.

“A mushroom princess. I’m Giddy McTits. And you are?”

My jaw hung open.

What layer of hell did I fall into?

“Oh, come on, just say it.” The human chased me around the cell.

For the better part of ten minutes, he’d demanded my name. I’d tried killing him twice already, and despite savoring every drop of his blood—the man didn’t die.

“It isn’t your business!” I roared and darted onto his cot with little grace.

“That only makes me want to know more. Stop teasing me! Either cough it up or suck on me again.” He lunged, fingers grazing my shirt.

As I barely avoided his grasp, I extended to my full height and bashed my head on the ceiling. That one second of distraction was all he needed. He tackled me to the ground. He straddled me and pressed the pad of his index finger on my nose.

“Unhand me!” My voice hit an octave I was not proud of, but what was I supposed to do? He was relentless!

“No,” he said sweetly and did it again.

“What is going on in there!” A guard called from down the hall. His heels clicked against the stone floor with speed.

The flicker of light in the human’s eyes gave me hope that he’d cease his pestering of my nose, but instead, he shifted gears. Fingers hammered into my cheeks, forehead, nose, and neck. He played my flesh like the keys of a piano, and I bucked under him. Now I was angry. With a grunt, I palmed his firm chest and shoved him off, slinging him into the bars, which rattled and hummed. The noises all but destroyed my sensitive ears.

“Guards! He hurt me. Look,” he whined, shoving his hand through the bars to wave it around dramatically.

Two men clad in steel-colored long sleeves and black pants stopped in front of our cell—my cell. He would not be staying. They looked at my conspicuous position, still on my elbows and my hair a right mess. The human only increased his theatrics.

“You have to help me! He touched my no-no bits!” His shimmering eyes blinked innocently, and his full lips pouted.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, pushing down my pride and standing.

The guards exchanged skeptical looks, and then all focus was on the human. “Nice try, Winters,” one said and then glanced me over. The second lifted his lantern to illuminate the space better. “Keep it quiet in there, Fane, or you’ll be put in solitary.”

“I’ll go! Wait—Fane? As in Vastian Fane?”

If I could”ve gotten any paler, I did then.

“Well, bend me over and call me daffodil! Maybe I am good at this,” he said the last sentence under his breath.

How did this human know my name?

“Keep it down, or you will answer to the Warden.”

“I love the Warden! She is my best friend. All those starlit nights spent crocheting cock dresses.” He held his chest as if reminiscing.

“Why did we get stuck with him?” the first guard asked the other, who shook his head defeatedly.

As they walked out of view, Winters yelled all sorts of nonsense and finished with, “I’m telling Mom!” Then he turned to face me, and his entire demeanor shifted.

No longer full of childish defiance but the stare of someone determined. Eyes of a man with nothing to lose. Dread licked down my spine at the realization he knew who I was.

Someone found me.