Chapter 3

“Sorry,” I murmured, sinking back down to the ground. “Just give me a moment, okay? I promise it was an accident. I—”

Then, something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes, a primal hunger lurking beneath the surface, accentuated by his long, thick lashes. The vampire parted his lips, revealing fangs that jutted out like Dracula’s in that old horror movie Diane and the girls had forced me to watch once.

“Fuck,” I gasped, my eyes widening in shock.

My heart raced, thundering in my ears as a surge of blind panic mixed with a dark rage coursed through my veins. I realised I had been utterly mistaken about his intentions; he wasn’t here to rescue me after all.

Instead, he had come to drain me, to feast on my blood before my body began to decay in this cell. He wouldn’t let my lifeblood go to waste like that, not when it was so tempting.

Was my blood really that irresistible that he would risk everything just to have a taste? I cursed my unfortunate luck when it came to men!

I must have been wrong about his motives during that chaotic escape from the lab, too. It wasn’t heroism that drove him—it was his insatiable thirst for my blood. And while I was no longer a virgin in that sense, it seemed my blood still held a certain allure.

This monster was going to exploit my vulnerable state and drain me dry. I had wasted precious time admiring his striking, sculpted physique instead of focussing on my survival.

Hell, I'm so stupid.

They say hunters never give up their hunt.

This vampire was one of the hunters who had pursued me. He got lucky and got to me before the others. Well, this bastard might not be that lucky.

So, what was the plan?

First?

I’d gouge out one of his gorgeous deep sapphire eyes, a suitable payment before he could get his fangs near my neck.

Jesus, I smell bad. Sure, I'm not that alluring. Haven't showered for so long, and yet here he was looking at me like I just came from a bath naked and all.

But should I just give up and be killed by this hotness?

Hell no.

Instead of being called a beautiful vampire, he’d be a one-eyed vampire king. Let the world remember which chick made his new nickname stick.

Two of my fingers thrust toward his eye, lightning fast. Even when I was so weak, I hadn’t lost my touch, as fear, fury, and adrenaline pumped into my blood.

But Jason’s hand lashed out, as if he’d expected my move.

He was faster than me, and he caught my wrist. My other fist had rammed toward his ear. My plan was to hurt him before he could draw my blood.

He threw his head back, and his other hand caught my wrist too. Now he had both of my wrists pulled in front of my face and pinned me in place, so I couldn’t even headbutt him.

I hissed like a feline, my legs kicking out.

“Feisty little wolf! Stupid move but admirable.” Jason cursed me, his long, sharp fangs glinting in the dim light. “Save it for later. You’ll need it. Right now, we don’t have time for this shit.”

“Fuck you, you bloodsucking monster!” I growled, um, don't think you can get those massive fangs near my throat. Hell... drain me dry, and I will haunt you until the end of time. I know how to be the most cruel ghost. Know this, fucker: I will exact tenfold revenge on all those who have harmed me. There is no rest for the wicked!" I winced at my words; surely I sounded stupid, pathetic, and vulnerable.

He frowned before saying, “You think I was going to take your blood?” he asked in disgust. “Hell no. I haven’t taken your blood since...” He stopped. “You haven’t changed much, Ollivara. Always impulsive. Always acting first and thinking last,” he sighed.

Ollivara?

What kind of name was that?

“My name’s not Ollivara. Everyone thinks I’m someone else these days. You’re all after the wrong girl. I'm not her.”

I tried to sound tough and aggressive, but even I could feel the fragility under my skin. I was unaware of my past. What if I was this Ollivara, as everyone was after me?

I hope not.

"I know who you are," he said, throwing my hands away. "And I won't bite you, even if you beg me!"

What the heck?

Well, I did not expect that.

While I stared at him, he raised his wrist to reveal his pink kissable lips, his fangs piercing his own flesh. Pure red blood spilt forth.

Woah!

Something inside me stirred when I smelt his ancient, powerful blood, like if a monster had just awoken. Before I knew it, my teeth had grown from my gums and turned into fangs. The fangs were not my typical wolf fangs, but vampire fangs.

No. No. Stop yourself, woman!

My hybrid fangs. My secret. Well, not anymore.

But then I caught my reflection in Jason’s eyes. To my horror, a sheen of crimson rolled over my irises. Under my eyes, veins turned visible and dark red, pulsing beneath my skin.

Hunger and thirst hit me like hail.

Oh, hell no.

What kind of freak am I?

The vampire regarded me darkly, as if I were a monster that he’d had a hard time pinning down for the security of the public. Maybe I shouldn’t stare at the blood streaming out of his wrist. But I licked my lips anyway. Like someone who had opened a gift, and it was Birkins.

God, it was like that... I salivated.

Hell, those kissable lips...those alluring blood.

“Woman!” He muttered and rolled his eyes, like he just read what was on my mind.

Could he read my mind?

Woah. Hopefully not.

Then he scowled, but worry flashed in his dark sapphire eyes, then determination took over.

“What the hell?” I hissed, my chest heaving with a mixture of rage and longing.

His blood—sweet, spicy, and crackling with electric power—called to me like a siren’s song, wrapping around my senses and pulling me in. My stomach clenched painfully with hunger pangs—a deep, gnawing emptiness that made my throat feel like sandpaper, parched with an insatiable thirst.

Maybe I should take a sip?

No! That wasn’t me talking! I’m not stupid; I am me. The one and only... the hybrid wolf. I couldn’t be a bloodsucker. I had always looked down on them, just like my shifter friends. We despised leeches; they were our natural enemy, the bane of our existence. The thought of giving in to that temptation felt like betrayal, a violation of everything I stood for.

But why did his blood sing to me, wrapping around my insides and sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach? The sheer intensity of the craving was overwhelming—a primal pull that made it hard to think straight. I could feel my instincts battling against my will, creating a tempest of confusion and desire.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know the effect he had on me? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I glanced up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of malice or amusement, but all I found was a steady, unwavering gaze that seemed to penetrate right through me. The room felt charged, thick with unspoken tension, as if the very air was conspiring to drown me in my own cravings.