Chapter 10 | Temptation and Restraint
1109 Words
Seraphine’s POV
I let go of Lucian.
The moment his weight left my arms, I collapsed to my knees in the heart of the forest. Damp moss softened the fall, but nothing could cushion the ache blooming in my chest. My hands moved automatically, scooping dirt, burying the shattered remnants of glass soaked in his blood. It wasn’t just about hiding evidence—it was a ritual. A desperate act of control in a moment where control was slipping.
The scent of his blood still lingered in the air like a siren’s song.
I dug deeper, faster, every scrape of my fingers against the earth echoing the battle raging inside me. My fangs ached. The temptation pulsed stronger with every heartbeat I didn’t know whether it was his or mine. That primal craving clawed at my throat, whispering wicked things in my ear.
Take him. Taste him. One bite. Just one…
But I didn’t.
I forced myself to breathe—slow and steady—and focused on the dirt beneath my fingers. Focused on the grave I was digging for broken glass, and not the one I might dig for myself if I gave in.
When the pieces were covered, I rose to my feet and dusted off my hands like I was cleansing myself of the hunger. Of the truth.
But the moment I turned, I found Lucian staring.
His eyes weren’t just watching—they were seeing. As if he’d read every thought that passed through me during those agonizing minutes.
I straightened my posture, feigning calm. “It would be wise,” I said, voice even, “for you to stop bleeding in the presence of vampires.”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. And yet, something shifted in his expression.
That storm behind his eyes… it wasn’t anger.
It was understanding.
The kind that dug deeper than either of us was ready for.
“I just buried the scent,” I added quietly. “If Vesperus had followed it…”
I trailed off. I didn’t need to finish the sentence. He knew what it meant.
Lucian simply nodded, but the weight of the moment lingered like fog.
For a while, we just stood there—two enemies who weren’t quite enemies anymore. The air between us buzzed with unsaid things. Secrets. Questions. Regrets.
Eventually, I turned away. “We should get back to the party,” I said, brushing past him.
His footsteps fell beside mine, quiet but deliberate. We walked close, too close. Our shoulders almost brushed. Every time his hand swung a fraction too near mine, I had to restrain myself from reaching out.
“Are you hiding something from me?” he asked, voice low, curious. “About my blood?”
The question pierced through me like a blade wrapped in silk.
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth wasn’t simple.
How could I explain that his blood wasn’t just blood—it was different? That I’d tasted a thousand kinds over the centuries, but his called to me like a forbidden symphony? Rich, rare, impossibly alluring. It wasn’t just the scent. It was everything.
His blood made me feel alive in a way I’d long forgotten. It electrified my senses, stirred something buried deep beneath centuries of restraint.
It was dangerous.
And it terrified me.
But how could I tell him any of that without revealing too much of myself? Without unraveling the carefully stitched mask I wore?
I kept walking.
Said nothing.
But the weight of his question hung between us like a blade suspended mid-air.
His blood was a mystery I didn’t want to solve. Because the more I learned, the harder it became to deny the truth:
Lucian wasn’t just another werewolf.
He was something more.
Something that could unravel me.
I was still lost in that thought when a voice sliced through the tension like a knife.
“Lucian!”
We both turned as a girl came crashing through the trees—wild, breathless, and glowing with unfiltered emotion. She threw herself into his arms without hesitation, like a girl returning to her anchor in the storm.
I froze.
Instinctively, I stepped back, suddenly aware of every inch between them and me. My chest tightened. I didn’t understand the sharp, bitter twist inside me. I didn’t want to name it.
The girl clung to him like he was everything. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her eyes drinking in his presence like she’d been starved.
Lucian didn’t pull away.
Something inside me twisted further.
Then she pulled back slightly and looked at him like he’d hung her moon. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, soft and full of aching tenderness.
Lucian smiled.
That same smile he’d never given me.
My heart stuttered.
“I’ve missed you too, kid,” he replied, ruffling her hair with that infuriatingly warm touch.
Kid.
The word struck like a thunderclap.
Relief.
Confusion.
Embarrassment.
It all crashed together in a chaotic wave I couldn’t stop.
The girl pouted. “Am I still just a kid to you?”
She twirled in place, showing off a maturing body she clearly wanted noticed. And then, her eyes locked onto mine like a radar zeroing in on a threat.
“And who might you be?” she asked, her tone laced with something between curiosity and jealousy.
I stepped forward slowly, deliberately. I could feel Lucian’s gaze tighten. He was watching me closely, no doubt worried I’d do something reckless.
Maybe I would.
I smiled—a dangerous, slow thing—and leaned in. My eyes flashed deep crimson, the kind that warned and enticed all at once.
“Who do you think I am?” I asked, tilting my head, letting my aura slip free just enough to cloud her thoughts.
Her expression faltered. Her breath hitched.
“A… vampire?” she answered, voice thin and uncertain.
I grinned wider. “Good guess.”
The glamour only lasted a second. Just long enough to make her doubt herself. Then I stepped back, withdrawing the charm. Her eyes blinked rapidly, the haze clearing.
Confusion bloomed across her face as she looked around, then to Lucian. She knew something had just happened—she just didn’t know what.
Lucian let out a sigh, a heavy one. And just like that, I turned and melted back into the forest.
I didn’t belong here.
Not in this moment.
Not with them.
As I slipped into the shadows, I heard her voice again. Soft. Shaky.
“I thought you hated vampires.”
And then silence.
The kind that spoke louder than any answer ever could.
- Writer
