The damp earth reeked of rotted leaves and torn flesh. The last hunter slipped from my grasp, dead. His mortal spine snapped with a hollow crunch, echoing through the desolate woods before silence reclaimed the air. Blood coated my hands in thick, cooling streams. The hunger gnawed at the inside of my ribs like a starved hound trapped in a cage of bones, but this agony was a welcome solace.

I refused to lick my fingers clean; I denied myself a single drop from anyone but her.

Four dead men lay on the forest floor. They had come armed with silver and righteous ignorance, tracking my shadow. And instead, they found one fragile thing I had coveted for months. The fools considered Dalia a captive waiting for salvation, but I knew the truth. They had plotted to steal my bride before our consummation. But their own stupidity had sealed their fate.

Their bodies lay twisted in the mud, silver weapons scattered among the pine needles. Stepping over a severed limb, I remained indifferent to the pooling blood. Their blood was thin, reeking of mediocrity and foolish courage.

But Dalia’s was different.

Her scent lingered in the heavy mist. Fear sweetened the night air, transforming it into an intoxicating vapor. A sharp, frantic musk of fear intertwined with the ghost of jasmine she always wore. Closing my eyes, I breathed the cold wind deep into my lungs. Her aroma struck my chest. The absolute perfection of her terror fractured my control, promising ruin.

“Dalia, my midnight bloom,” I whispered to the freezing air.

For an eternity of months, I had suppressed my own nature as I prowled among the daytime cattle. I wore their skin, smiled at their jokes, and sipped their wine. The courtship required excruciating discipline of my nature. I bought her white roses and kissed her warm knuckles in softly lit parlors, listening to her whisper her dreams. The picture of a charming gentleman was a polite lie built to ensnare her heart. Beneath the tailored suits and gentle smiles, the beast writhed in starvation.

“I am coming for you.”

Yearning for her, I cultivated this thirst like a devoted priest tending a sacred flame. The anticipation was breaking me. Her pulse became the singular event of my existence. Drinking from anyone else would be a betrayal, pollution of the chalice.

Now the waiting was over.

I stood still, my senses expanding into the dark. Three miles away, a dead branch cracked under a heel. I felt her heartbeat hammering against the distance like a panicked drum. Opening my eyes, I felt the shift in me. The monster that was desperate for her taste was finally rising, turning my irises red.

I allowed her the head start. The chase was the final act of our performance, a dance of predator and prey. I wanted her to exhaust her human frailty, forcing the frantic adrenaline to spike the sweetness in her veins. She believed the nightmare was behind her, but I was closing in. The poor, perfect creature had no concept of the darkness tracking her path.

I moved into the treeline, the shadows embracing my form as I closed the distance. The forest blurred into a tunnel of dark greens and black. Gliding over the uneven earth as a wraith moves through a sleeping mind, I closed the distance closer and closer.

The memory of her smile haunted me, a torment driving me forward. The radiating heat from her collarbone haunted my senses, recalling the nights we danced in crowded ballrooms. I obsessed over the maddening rhythm of the blue veins throbbing beneath her delicate skin. My self-imposed famine made the image sharp enough to cut a bone. My fangs ached with phantom pressure. I stalked her through the midnight woods, my senses hyper-focused on her heat signature.

Every agonizing month of restraint coiled in my muscles, urging me forward. Tracking my bride, I savored this total isolation. The mundane world no longer existed. And for her, the sun would never rise again. There was only the predator, the crushing weight of this yearning, and the inevitability that she would forever walk under the moon, with me.

Dalia stumbled in the dark, letting out a faint gasp. The sound was devastatingly sweet, nearly bringing me to my knees. The mud would stain her pale silk dress. The wild tangle of her dark hair would catch on the low-hanging branches. The urge to cross the miles instantly warred against the pleasure of hunting her instead.

It amplified my devotion.

I was quiet as I stepped over the log. The air warmed as I closed in on her panic; her heartbeat became my sole obsession. Her frantic thumping dictated my pace, calling me forward into the abyss of my fixation. I wouldn’t stop until I tasted the culmination of my patience, consuming her fear, love, and surrender. The forest closed in behind us, locking us inside a world of fangs and her warm blood.

The pursuit carried me deep into the belly of the ancient forest. Dense pines gave way to the skeletal remains of a forgotten stone abbey. Crumbling walls rose from the damp earth like broken teeth. Her panic’s scent guided my path, burning a trail through the black mist.

I emerged from the treeline. Dead leaves offered no resistance beneath my heavy boots. My shadow stretched across the frosted grass, claiming the space between us.

“You tricked me,” she said, spinning around. The pale silk of her gown hung in torn ribbons. Mud and briars stained the exquisite fabric from her desperate flight, just as I expected. A silver dagger trembled in her hand, catching the moonlight. Her eyes locked onto my face as the illusion of the polite gentleman evaporated.

“You sat with me.”

She saw the blood coating my knuckles, the red fire consuming my irises; the truth of my existence stood ten feet away. “Stay away from me,” her voice cracked, echoing off the ruined stone. The command carried the edge of despair. “I know what you are, Dorian. I saw what you did to those men.”

“Hmmm…” my throat produced a low, resonant hum. The vibration traveled through the freezing mist, carrying a centuries-old ache. I was a predator savoring trapped prey.

“Do not take another step.” She retreated one hesitant pace. The heel of her delicate shoe scraped against the uneven ground. “Did you imagine how to rip my throat open as you kissed my wrists?”

A heavy sigh slipped past my lips. The breath plumed white in the freezing night, heavy with the weight of agonizing months spent searching for this moment. I advanced at a steady pace. The darkness obeyed my command, closing in around us.

“I am warning you,” she said, her dagger shaking violently to the frantic rhythm of her racing pulse. “I am not a helpless doe. I will drive this silver straight through your rotten heart.”

Her vicious threats were exquisite poetry. They masked a trembling surrender underneath. The flavor of her terror coated my tongue, dragging my sanity into the abyss. The agony of my starvation demanded immediate relief. I tilted my head, letting the moonlight illuminate the predator standing before her. I answered her desperate plea with another deep, vibrating hum. The feral noise rumbled from the bottom of my lungs, drowning out the ambient rustle of the wind.

She scrambled backward, her hand searching for an escape route. “Stay away from me. Let me go, or I swear to God I will kill you.”

My silence served as a confession. I stalked forward, matching her desperate retreat with fluid precision. Every inch she yielded, I conquered. This dance felt hypnotic. She was the moon, pulling the tides of my obsession towards her. The distance shrank to seven feet. Her blood’s heat called to the freeze in my veins.

“Stop!” she said, taking another frantic step backward. “Please…”

I closed the distance to five feet. The gravitational pull of her soul broke the last chains of my control. My gaze remained locked on the throbbing at the base of her throat. Her veins offered me salvation, and my hunger demanded her sacrifice.

Dalia’s shoulders struck solid rock. The ruined wall of the abbey halted her momentum, her spine pressed hard against the damp stone. There was nowhere left to run. The granite blocks caged her delicate frame as my shadow swallowed her trembling body. The world narrowed to the space between our mouths.

I stopped. The proximity to her shattered the remaining fragments of my restraint. Her scent invaded my lungs, paralyzing every rational thought, if I had any left. The roar of her blood silenced all other frequencies. I inhaled the sweet, frantic fear pouring from her feverish skin.

A vicious smile stretched across my face. My jaw flexed with anticipation. The porcelain veneer shattered, leaving only the starving monster. My fangs descended, scraping against my lower lip in a blinding ache of need.

The abyssal hunger demanded blood, her blood. My gaze hunted for the frantic pulse beneath her ruined silk. The moonlight illuminated the source of my exquisite torment. Dark bruises bloomed across her pearl-white skin like crushed violet petals. Jagged scratches marred the delicate expanse of her collarbone, a violent testament to the fight she put up against the hunters. A deeper, weeping gash traced the sharp curve of her left cheek. The vibrant scent of that single fresh wound struck my senses, fracturing the freezing air in my lungs.

The feral urge to taste the crimson drop sliding down her jawline overpowered rational thought. The beast inside me demanded to violate. I needed to spread my venom across the cut, so it could knit the delicate skin back together to ensure no crude mortal scar would ever blemish her perfect face again.

I consumed the sight of her broken elegance, and it shattered the remnants of my discipline. Every bruised inch of her flesh fueled the starvation roaring through my immortal veins. The frantic rise and fall of her chest broadcasted a suffocating panic, wrapping around my mind in a devastating lullaby of fear and vulnerability. The more my eyes traced the chaotic map of her injuries, the harder the chains of my restraint splintered. The crushing weight of this months-old yearning demanded an immediate consummation.

She pressed her spine against the unyielding stone as she raised her trembling hand. The silver sparkled in her hands. But the weapon gained no fear in me; I was past it. There was nothing left to stop me from touching her. Even if I paid with my immortal life for it.

“You lied to me,” she breathed, her voice cracking under the crushing weight of her terror.

“I did,” I murmured. The sound barely disturbed the heavy air. “You were so trusting. You possessed no concept of the violence sitting on your velvet sofa.”

She stepped deeper into the stone, pushing the weapon forward. “You are a monster.”

“I am. And I am starving for you.” The confession carried a hollow, ancient exhaustion. “The restraint required to leave your throat untouched tore my mind apart. Sitting in your parlor, inhaling that maddening jasmine, I swallowed a world-ending thirst. I stood in the dark outside your bedroom window, listening to the slow rhythm of your heartbeat. You drove me to the edge of madness without lifting a single finger.”

Her chest heaved with chaotic, desperate breaths. “I will drive this straight into your black heart and watch you burn to ash.” Her voice carried an edge, desperate and raw in the freezing mist.

The vicious threat dripped from her soft, terrified lips. Her mortal defiance bloomed in the face of an immortal leviathan and felt so sweet. A dark, resonant chuckle rumbled from the bottom of my chest, echoing against the ruined walls. The sound stripped away the final, fragile illusion of the polite suitor, and the tether holding back the monster had finally snapped.

I crossed the remaining space in a blur, shattering the heavy atmosphere. My palm slammed against her throat, pinning her flush against the granite wall. The brutal impact drove the breath from her lungs in a sharp, beautiful gasp. The blistering heat of her skin scorched the ice in my dead flesh. Her pulse beat a frantic, dying rhythm directly against the center of my palm.

My free hand snapped forward, locking around her delicate wrist like a rusted iron manacle as I squeezed the fragile cluster of her wrist bones. I applied agonizing pressure, forcing her paralyzed fingers to splay wide open. The silver clattered uselessly against the stone ruins at our feet, leaving her defenseless against the overwhelming tide of my obsession.

I leaned closer, letting the heat of her proximity melt the frost in my dead heart. My tongue traced the weeping gash carving a path down her pale cheek. The metallic copper bloomed across my palate in a symphony of flavor. It tasted like crushed velvet and pure terror, but surprisingly, there was no revulsion from her. A low hum of satisfaction vibrated deep within my chest; she wanted me.

The exquisite vintage in her veins proved irresistible. I did not regret all the agonizing months of disciplined starvation I brought upon myself. The numbing venom in my saliva coated the torn flesh, knitting the delicate skin back together to preserve her perfect face.

Every ragged breath she drew fed the monstrous obsession coiled inside my gut. Inhaling her fear amplified the drumbeat pounding against my palm. The frantic rhythm drove the boiling blood through her body with punishing force. The violent rush echoed inside the hollow chambers of my soul, calling to her. A heavy ache pooled low in my groin, hardening with vicious need. I pinned her against the granite, grinding my hips into the soft cradle of her thighs. The heavy friction left no mystery regarding the feral nature of my intent.

“Monster,” she hissed. “Fucking parasite.”

The vicious insults struck my ears like a sacred prayer. Her trembling mouth spat defiance, ignoring the absolute surrender broadcasting from her physiological responses. The intimate pressure of my body against her core sent a visible shudder through her ruined silk gown. Her pulse skyrocketed into a frenzy. The frantic fluttering beneath my palm betrayed the corruption taking root in her soul. I released her bruised wrist and let my hand drift in a slow exploration. My fingertips traced the delicate slope of her shoulder, dragging a heavy path across the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

I lowered my face into the crook of her neck, letting my lips brush the frantic thumping of her artery. The freezing tip of my nose skimmed the sensitive skin of her jawline, mapping the territory I intended to consume.

“Dalia,” I whispered, letting the dark vibration sink into her trembling bones. “You need to calm down, doll. A few more pumps of your heart, and your blood will fill my mouth.”

Her breath hitched in a sharp gasp. The warning failed to soothe her terror, sending her heart into a catastrophic rhythm. The frantic thumping threatened to shatter her fragile ribcage. The heavy perfume of her mounting arousal mixed flawlessly with the scent of her terror. Her lust intoxicated my senses, confirming she craved this too.

“Tell me you want me,” I murmured against her ear.

“Never.” The denial slipped through her clenched teeth in a breathless lie.

My fingers tightened around the slender column of her throat. The brutal pressure severed her oxygen supply instantly, turning her defiant gasp into a desperate, silent struggle. Her eyes widened into terrified white moons reflecting my stare. The absolute power over her existence rested in the cradle of my palm. The scent of her arousal rose higher. My midnight bloom seemed to enjoy a little roughness, and I was all too eager to give her anything to satisfy the need.

The punishing grip remained steady, demanding her submission before I offered her the release. My free hand mapped the soft curve of her belly trembling beneath my palm. The heat of her flesh scorched my frozen fingers, drawing me deeper into the labyrinth of her desire. Tracing the ruin of her gown, I pressed my palm heavy against the aching, wet center of her heat.

“Do you want me now?” I asked, softening the demand into a tender caress.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, abandoning resistance. The fight drained from her muscles in a beautiful defeat. I relaxed the grip on her windpipe by a fraction, granting her the air required for her response.

“Yes,” she breathed into the freezing mist.

I inhaled her surrender, drawing the sweet syllables deep into my lungs.

“Fuuuuck,” one word held the weight of my eternal famine. Her confirmation unraveled my restraint, leaving nothing behind to cage the roaring beast. The fragile boundary between monster and lover disintegrated into ash.

My hand remained anchored in her gown. I dragged the torn silk higher, baring her heat to the night. The searing flesh scorched my knuckles, drawing my dead nerves into a blinding hyper-awareness. I found her open, slick, already clenching around nothing. Two fingers slid through her velvet heat, and she gasped against my palm, hips jerking into the intrusion. I worked her once, twice, gathering evidence of her want all over my fingers.

I opened my hand on her throat and withdrew the hold on her. There was nothing anchoring her anymore to the wall. She staggered for a heartbeat as she sagged against the granite, catching herself on my shirt. I undid the buttons on my trousers and shoved the fabric down, freeing the agonizing ache of my body.

“You have to hold on to my shoulders, doll,” I said, my words rough and scraped raw. My other hand was still buried in her gown. I pushed the torn silk back up to her waist, baring her heat to me once more. The second arm went under her, a hard band across her lower back. I yanked her off the ground in one swift motion. Her spine struck the granite, her legs wrapping around my hips. The damp stone offered no mercy. It trapped her there, suspended, while I adjusted my grip and notched myself against the velvet heat of her core.

 There was nowhere else for her to run; this was it, and she knew it.

“Look at me, doll.”

She did. Barely.

“You asked for this, teasing me all these months,” I said, and drove into her.

One slow thrust seated me deep. The heat of her flesh scorched the frost from me. She gasped against my mouth. Her hands found my shoulders and anchored there. I held her up in the cradle of my arms and the press of my body to the unyielding wall. I stayed buried while her pulse hammered around me.

Then I moved.

Every thrust answered the frantic roll of her hips. Short. Heavy. Unforgiving. The wet sound of our joining cut through the broken abbey. I traced the curve of her jawline with an open mouth. My tongue swept across the frantic vein beneath her ear, tasting the salt of her fear and the perfume of her mounting ruin.

“That is it,” I murmured into the bruise on her throat. “Take it. You wanted me, then have me.”

Her head fell back against the granite. The long, pale expanse of her throat lay exposed to me. I dragged my lips down the sensitive column, suckling the bruised flesh with agonizing slowness while I thrust up into her. I refused to pierce the skin. The anticipation demanded absolute worship before the slaughter. Her nails dug into my shirt. The heat of her core tightened, clenching in a beautiful rhythm. Each involuntary squeeze sent a blinding ache straight through my frozen marrow.

I shifted one arm, hooked her knee higher, and drove in at a new angle until her voice broke.

“Dorian—”

Not a scream yet. A warning. A plea.

“I know.” I put my brow to hers for one second, still thrusting, still holding her off the ground. “Give it to me.”

My vision fractured. The moonlight dissolved into nothing. I felt the consuming red bleed into the corners of my eyes. Dark stars exploded behind my eyelids, coloring the roaring hunger under my skin. The starvation reached a fever pitch, demanding the ultimate sacrifice. The world narrowed to the roar of her racing heart, the wet clasp of her body, and her frantic sighs.

The heat radiating from her core reached a blinding zenith. Her muscles locked tight around me. The tension signaled the total collapse of her restraint.

I dragged my mouth over her carotid artery one final time, savoring the frantic pulse.

A shudder ripped through her frame, destroying her control. Her climax squeezed me tight. I drove into that spasming heat and held, buried to the root, her weight entirely mine.

My fangs descended.

The sharp tips pierced her skin, sinking deep into the sweet torrent of her life force at the exact instant her body seized around mine again. The hot copper flooded my mouth in a devastating wave of perfection. The taste eclipsed the moon, the stars, and God himself. I drank as I came, spilling into her in long, shuddering thrusts. She threw her head back, offering her soul to the dark, to me.

“Dorian!” she shattered in my arms.

Her scream tore through the woods, carrying the ecstasy of her damnation.

And at last she was mine, forever.