Chapter 2

Rain trickled down my face, cold and sharp, but I couldn’t move.

The man before me—no, not a man, something else entirely—held me captive with a single word.

“You.”

It was like lightning had struck. His voice was deep, resonant, carrying centuries of command, as if the storm itself bent to obey him.

My heart hammered against my ribs, screaming at me to run, but my legs refused.

The rogue vampire who had chased me still knelt in the mud, trembling like a cornered animal. He didn’t dare lift his head.

The stranger—the one called Majesty—slowly shifted his gaze to him.

“What were you doing with her?” His words were low, lethal.

The rogue flinched. “F-forgive me, Your Majesty. I—I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t know what?”

“That she was—”

In a blur, the King moved. One moment he stood still, the next his hand was around the rogue’s throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air. Rain dripped from his long fingers as the vampire clawed at them helplessly.

“You touched what is mine,” the King said, his voice cold, final.

The rogue’s eyes bulged. “I—please—”

With a sickening crack, his body went limp. The King released him, letting the corpse hit the mud with a dull thud.

I choked on a breath. My stomach lurched. He had killed him—so fast I barely saw it happen.

And then… he looked at me.

That gaze burned through me, sharper than the lightning that split the sky.

Every instinct screamed to run, but my body betrayed me. My feet stayed planted. My throat dry. My pulse loud enough to echo in my ears.

He stepped closer, and the air seemed to shift around him. Heavy. Suffocating.

“What are you?” His question was not gentle. It was demand, like a king demanding tribute.

“I—” My voice cracked. “I’m human.”

His lips curved—something between amusement and disbelief. “Human?” His eyes glowed brighter, crimson flames against the dark. “Do not lie to me. Your blood betrays you.”

Panic surged through me. He knew. Somehow, he knew what I had found in the lab tonight. The marker that wasn’t human.

I stumbled back, my heel slipping in the mud. “Stay away from me.”

But he only advanced, his movements fluid, predatory. “You think you can order me?” His voice was silk over steel. “Do you even know who I am?”

I shook my head, though part of me already guessed.

“I am Kael Draven, King of the Vampires.” His tone carried centuries of blood and power. “The one mortals whisper of in nightmares. The one your kind has hunted—and failed to destroy.”

My knees weakened. King of the Vampires. My grandmother’s stories hadn’t just been stories. They were warnings.

And now I stood in front of the very monster mothers used to frighten their children into obedience.

He closed the distance until he stood a breath away. Rain rolled down the sharp planes of his face, his crimson gaze unrelenting.

“Your blood called to me,” he murmured, almost to himself. “For centuries, I have walked this world without feeling, without a single beat in my chest. But when I saw you…” His hand brushed the space above his heart. “…it stirred.”

I froze. What was he saying?

“You are the one,” Kael whispered, his voice roughened with something I couldn’t name. “The curse… ends with you.”

Curse? My head spun, trying to grasp his words. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He tilted his head, studying me with unnerving intensity. “Perhaps not. But you will.”

Lightning split the sky, illuminating his face in sharp contrast—inhumanly beautiful, terrifyingly cold.

“I won’t let you go,” he said softly, but the softness only made it more dangerous. “Not now. Not ever.”

My chest tightened, fear and confusion tangling until I could barely breathe. “You can’t—”

His hand shot out, fingers curling around my wrist. His grip was firm, unyielding, but not crushing. Heat spread from his touch, crawling up my arm. My pulse thundered, and his eyes darkened, as if the sound itself consumed him.

“Your heartbeat…” His voice dropped, reverent and dangerous. “Do you know what you’ve done to me?”

I shook my head, too overwhelmed to answer.

For a moment, his expression flickered—something raw, almost vulnerable. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by cold resolve.

“You will come with me,” he declared.

“No!” I yanked against his grip, desperate, but his strength was absolute. It was like fighting against iron chains.

“Yes.” His voice brooked no argument. “You are mine now.”

The word mine echoed in my skull, heavy and final.

The rain poured harder, drowning the world, but all I could hear was the thunder of my own heart.

And his voice, dark and inescapable, sealing my fate.

“You are bound to me, little one. Whether you wish it or not.”

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