Chapter FIVE — First Bite
842 Words
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Elena’s POV
The tray felt impossibly heavy as I carried it across the hall. My hands trembled, not just from nerves, but from the gnawing hunger that Mara had warned me about. Days without proper food had left me weak, and every step toward the King’s table felt like walking on a tightrope over a bottomless pit.
The King’s quarters were vast, cold, and imposing. Stone walls stretched high above, lined with dark tapestries that shifted in the flickering torchlight. Shadows stretched across the polished floor, and the faint metallic scent in the air reminded me of blood. The place was silent, except for the echo of my own steps, which seemed unbearably loud.
At the head of the table, he sat. Pale, tall, with red eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. The weight of his presence pressed against my chest like a living thing. I tried to focus on the tray, on the simple task of serving, but my pulse rattled in my ears.
I placed the tray down, hands trembling, my eyes flicking to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
He did.
Without warning, his hand shot out, brushing my wrist. Light touch, but heavy with intention. My stomach twisted.
“Relax,” he said, voice smooth, low, and dangerous.
“I… I’m fine,” I whispered, forcing a steadier tone. “I just… don’t like surprises.”
A slow, amused smile tugged at his lips. “Interesting.”
Then came the bite.
Pain lanced across my neck, sharp and hot. My knees buckled slightly, but I caught myself on the tray. Warm, metallic blood trickled as his mouth met my skin with a strength I could barely resist. My body jerked instinctively, weak from days of malnutrition.
I gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip was iron. The bite went deeper, faster than I could comprehend. I felt his power pressing against me, overwhelming me completely. The world tilted. My vision blurred. My heart pounded so violently I thought it would explode.
“Ah…” His voice was strained, almost a growl. His usual control slipped for a moment, and I could feel it in the force of his hold, the way he pressed closer, inhaling my blood with an intensity that made my head spin.
The edges of the room darkened in my vision. Shadows stretched unnaturally, flickering in time with the torchlight. Panic clawed at me. “Mara…” I tried to call, but my voice cracked.
My legs gave way entirely. My stomach, empty and hollow, roared in protest. I stumbled, my body betraying me, my head spinning. Hunger and fear collided, and the last thing I registered was his hands — strong, cold, unyielding — lifting me from the floor.
I felt myself rising, suspended between panic and darkness. He carried me swiftly across the room. Every movement pressed me against the strength of his body. My pulse raced, my breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, and then… the world went black.
When I woke, I was lying on a bed so soft it felt alien against my trembling body. A single candle flickered in the corner, casting dancing shadows across tall, dark walls. My neck throbbed, still tingling from where he had bitten me. My limbs were weak, and I shivered uncontrollably.
The room itself was overwhelming. Tall ceilings loomed above, dark curtains blocked most of the moonlight, and polished tables and wardrobes gleamed faintly in the dim light. Despite the richness, the place felt alive and dangerous, every shadow a potential threat.
A tray of food had been placed nearby — rich, steaming broth, bread, and roasted meat. The smell made my stomach clench with hunger. Weakness gnawed at me, and I realized with a sinking feeling that malnutrition had made me faint, not just fear.
He stood at the edge of the bed. Silent. Watching. Red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, piercing me like blades.
Fear surged, raw and immediate. My hands clutched the sheets, heart hammering. Every instinct screamed to flee, but my body refused to obey.
“Eat,” a servant whispered softly, setting the tray closer.
I hesitated, glancing at the King. His eyes never left me, sharp, measuring, amused. My throat was dry, voice gone. Slowly, I picked up a spoon, hands trembling, and ate. Each bite sent warmth through my cold, trembling body.
He moved slightly, stepping back just enough to give me space, but his presence remained overwhelming. I could feel the lingering power in the room, the faint taste of my own blood in the air between us.
I glanced up, red eyes meeting mine. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw… curiosity. Amusement. Something that made my stomach tighten for reasons I couldn’t name.
The first bite was over. I was weak, trembling, but alive. And though terror still coursed through me, a spark of defiance flickered. I would survive. I would not be crushed entirely, no matter how strong, dangerous, or unpredictable he was.
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- Writer
