5. (DANE POV)

( DANE POV )

Lying there, with a human nestled securely in my arms, I was grappling with an upheaval of emotions that had no right to exist within me.

 Not after centuries of disciplined existence.

 For me, feeding on humans has always been a matter of necessity, devoid of any emotional entanglement. It is transactional, a simple exchange between predator and prey. 

Yet, what transpired with Jo was different. It transcended the mere act of nourishment. It was intimate, filled with an intensity that resonated deep within my ancient soul.

As I felt her breathing even out, drifting between wakefulness and sleep, I marveled at the trust she exhibited. To fall asleep in the presence of a vampire, especially after sharing such an intense experience, spoke volumes of her exhaustion...or perhaps her comfort in my presence. 

My presence, the oldest and likely the most dangerous vampire at the academy. The thought was both baffling and intriguing.

Jo was here as a form of punishment, a detail that had initially led me to vow to keep a certain distance. The complications that could arise from becoming too involved with a human under such circumstances are numerous and fraught with potential issues. 

I broke that vow pretty much immediately.

 Now, as I lay in bed feeling her warmth against me, I couldn't deny the pull, the inexplicable connection that seemed to draw me to her. 

She wasn't a troublemaker in the traditional sense. Her defiance seemed more a shield against the world than any genuine desire to cause chaos.

Her sharp tongue would undoubtedly cause her problems within the academy. It was an issue that needed to be addressed, yet as I pondered our interaction, I couldn't help but admire her spirit. 

Total obedience and quiet submission were dull. I realized I craved her wit, her sharp tongue. Her challenges. 

I craved her.

These reflections were abruptly interrupted by a loud knock at the door. The sound startled Jo, pulling her momentarily from the edge of sleep. "Shh, just stay here, okay?" I whispered, lightly kissing her forehead. She nodded before turning over and closing her eyes once more. I could feel how fast her pulse was now... She wasn't going back to sleep. 

I rose from bed and composed myself before answering the door. Camilla stood before me, her expression roaring, a reminder of the delicate balance of power within the academy. 

"Camilla," I greeted, my tone measured, the weight of centuries of etiquette and diplomacy leveling my voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her glare was penetrating, a silent testament to the severity of the situation that had drawn her to my door. I braced myself, aware that the tranquility of the moment shared with Jo was about to be challenged. Whatever the reason for Camilla's anger, I prepared to defend what had transpired between us. 

A stance that, until tonight, I would never have anticipated taking for a human.

"Remember, Dane, the academy has rules and expectations for both our kind and the humans under our care. This," she pointed to the bed, "is a serious breach of those protocols. Miss Fisher is here as a form of correction, not for... romantic entanglements. Especially not before she's even been properly introduced. She needs to be in the newbie dorm."

"I understand that," I conceded, recognizing the validity of her concerns while remaining firm in my actions. "But I explained everything she needed to know and provided aftercare. This is her first time being fed on, so please, give her some grace and maybe some time."

"Fine, Sire. Get her to the newbie dorm within the hour," Camilla said through gritted teeth before turning on her 6-inch heel. 

Her concession was reluctant, granted more due to my position and lineage than any argument I could have made. As a prince, I wielded a certain level of influence that, while powerful, was not a tool I was keen to overuse. 

The balance of power within the academy was delicate, and I always preferred to navigate these waters with care and respect for all involved. The whole charade of masquerading as mafia families back in the 20th century might not have nailed the control aspect we were aiming for, but it did hammer home one lesson: A touch of class can make even the messiest situations look more polished, more palatable. 

I returned to Jo. "I got you into trouble," she whispered.

"Ehh, maybe a little," I admitted. I pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her with a reassurance that was as much for her as it was for myself. "Luckily for you, I'm kind of a big deal around here." The attempt at silliness was genuine, an effort to ease the anxiety that had undoubtedly built in my absence, listening to Camilla scream about protocol.

"Why?" Her curiosity was a flicker of light in the darkness of my life, a sign of her interest in me and my world.

"Well... to start with, I'm the oldest here... by about 400 years or so." Her gasp was unexpectedly pleasing, making me grin as I continued, "I'm just over 1200. I was born in...well, around 880 AD." The numbers were drastic, a testament to the centuries I had traversed and the epochs of human history I had witnessed. To her, my age was a concept as foreign and vast as the night sky, filled with stars and untold stories.

Curled up beside her, the warmth of her body seeping into mine under the covers, I didn't want this moment to end. As much as she needed to sleep, I would only have so long to hear her voice now. "What did you do to get punished?" I quickly asked, trying to distract her and keep her awake. 

Her response was filled with defiance. "Why does it matter to you? I taste the same no matter what, right?" The lippiness in her voice, the challenge, provoked something within me. A reaction that was both immediate and fierce.

My eyes darkened, a physical manifestation of the dominant nature I often kept restrained. "You cannot speak to anyone here like that," I told her, "Considering how accommodating I have been to you, it's quite appalling that you continue to act this way. You deserve to be punished, and if you were with any other master and dared to speak like that... you'd be in tears, in pain."

It was against my nature to intimidate over something so small, but the ingrained response to human disrespect was something I couldn't quickly suppress. It was a warning, a reminder of the reality of our world, where consequences are often swift and severe.

Seeing her reaction...shaking, wide-eyed...filled me with regret. It was never my intention to frighten her to such an extent. I closed my eyes to allow them to return to normal and softened my approach. "Sorry, kitten. You can't talk to me like that. It won't end well for anyone, I promise you."

Her voice was low. "I... I took my stepdad's car. I drove it right into a tree. I just... I had to get away from him," she confessed, each word filled with desperation and pain, the story behind them echoing louder than the words themselves.

"Why?" I asked gently, sensing there was more to the story than a simple act of rebellion.

"To get away from him," she repeated.

I chose not to press further, recognizing the emotional disaster she was already navigating. 

The realization that I needed to return her to the newbie dorm loomed over us.

"Can I just stay here with you?" she asked, her voice small. Her fear, previously masked by defiance, now surfaced unmistakably as she contemplated being left alone. 

The denial pained me as much as it did her. "No, you can't. Do you want me to carry you, or will you walk?"

Her loss of security was clear, a mirror of my own reluctance to part ways. Yet, the academy's rules were unyielding. As much as I wanted to keep her by my side, I knew it wasn't possible if we were to navigate this delicate situation without further complications.