Vex paced. The Hollow, with its twisted roots and gnarled branches, felt like a living, breathing entity beneath her feet. The night air crackled with her hunger—a fire burning deeper inside her, her need for blood a pulsing ache she could barely contain. It had been days since she last fed, and each hour without it made her feel more like a beast caged in the dark.
She had tried. She had looked for someone—anyone—but the craving… it was different now. It wasn't just thirst. It was power, a demand that gnawed at her insides, urging her to take and take and take until nothing was left but ash.
But she couldn't. Not from him.
The thought of draining Rhydir's blood, the very idea of it, made her pause. She had marked him. Agni had made that damnable mistake. And now, there was something inside her—something that wanted to possess him in ways that went far beyond a mere bite. She wanted him. All of him. But she couldn't.
He wouldn't let her have someone else.
The fire in her veins burned hotter. Her fangs ached, sharper than before, and yet she forced herself to breathe deeply, to control the need, the urge.
She didn't need him, she told herself. Not like this. She was not that weak, not anymore.
But then, she saw him. He appeared at the entrance of her darkened chambers—tall, like a predator hunting in the night, his silver eyes gleaming with something far darker than mere curiosity.
"Vex," he said, his voice low and smooth, like dark velvet caressing her senses. "Still hungry, are we?"
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. There was nothing meek about Rhydir. He was a storm contained within flesh, a powerful being who could tear entire kingdoms apart with nothing but his will. And now, standing there in the doorway, he radiated a challenge. A challenge that made her hunger twist deeper, hotter.
"I'm fine," she lied, her voice a little too breathless. She turned away from him, unable to meet his gaze. "You need not concern yourself with me."
Rhydir's laugh was low, dangerous, and rich with intent. "I don't think that's true. The way you pace, the way your eyes burn…" He stepped closer, his footsteps quiet but firm. "You're starving, Vex. And I wonder…"
He paused, just close enough now that she could feel the heat of his body, the dangerous pull of his presence.
"…Why aren't you feeding on me?"
Her chest tightened. The question hung in the air like a challenge, like a dare. Vex clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her hunger flared.
"I've told you," she snapped, her voice colder than she felt. "I can't. You're marked. I can't drink from you."
"Can't? Or won't?" His voice dropped, husky and thick with something darker, something more dangerous. He stepped closer still, just within reach.
She turned her head away, her sharp breath betraying her calm demeanor. "I don't need you," she said, but even to her ears, the words sounded hollow.
"Oh, but you do." His hand was suddenly on her shoulder, turning her back toward him with a gentle but firm pressure. "And you're lying to yourself if you say you don't. Why else would you be like this, Vex?" His thumb traced the curve of her neck, sending a jolt of heat straight to her core. "Why else would I find you pacing, restless, consumed by this hunger?"
The words had weight. She could feel the truth of them, the sharp sting that cut through her resolve.
"Let go of me," she growled, but there was no force behind it. Instead, she felt herself leaning into his touch, craving it, the need to push him away battling with the need to pull him closer.
He chuckled softly, amused by her resistance. "No, Vex. I don't think I will."
Her body trembled, her fangs glinting as she bared them at him in a twisted mockery of a smile. "You think you can control me? Think again."
His gaze flickered with something like amusement before turning dark, predatory. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Control? No, darling. But I think I can make you give in. You're hungry, aren't you?"
Her throat tightened. "I don't need you, Rhydir."
"You don't need anyone but me, Vex." He breathed her name like a lover's caress, and then, without warning, his lips brushed against her ear, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that made her blood boil. "And I think it's time you realized that."
The last shred of her control snapped. She couldn't resist it anymore. Her fangs extended, sharp as daggers, and her body moved on its own accord, pulling him closer. The hunger was unbearable now, a force she could no longer ignore.
She buried her face into his neck, feeling the rapid pulse of his heartbeat against her lips. He was hers. She knew that, deep down. He had to be.
But she hesitated.
"I can't…" she whispered, her voice barely audible against his skin.
"Yes, you can," he said softly, his hands pulling her tighter, urging her forward. "Take what's yours."
And then, she did.
The taste of his blood was like fire. It wasn't like anything she'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a relief. It was power. Strength. It surged through her like a tidal wave, filling the empty, aching void inside her that had been gnawing at her soul for so long.
But it was also a temptation—a dangerous one.
As she drank from him, she felt the heat of his skin, the raw, undeniable chemistry that had always simmered between them. It ignited, sparking something darker in her, something far more possessive. She was marked. She had claimed him. And now, he would never be free of her.
She pulled back reluctantly, her body shaking as she wiped the blood from her lips. "You are mine," she said, her voice fierce and possessive, her eyes glowing with fire.
He smirked, his breath ragged. "And I'm starting to think I don't mind."
His words were like fuel to the flames burning inside her.
She straightened, her gaze narrowing, her hunger subsiding but not gone. "You've crossed a line, Rhydir. A dangerous one."
He tilted his head, his silver eyes gleaming. "Maybe. But I think you like it."
She clenched her fists. "Don't mistake my hunger for weakness."
"Oh, I don't," he said, stepping back just enough to look her over. "I think it's just the beginning of something far more dangerous."
And then he smiled, that same, infuriatingly confident smile that always made her pulse race.
"You should know," he added, his voice low and full of challenge, "I never kneel. Not for anyone."
Her smile curled in response, sharp and full of fire. "You will. For me."