My Immortal Hunger

Five

“WHO ARE YOU?” Lucius roared, grabbing both of her wrists in one immense hand and trapping them high above her head against the wall.

Thea squeezed her eyes shut, trembling. “I—I am Thea… your friends brought me here,” she sobbed.

The pressure on her wrists eased slightly. When she blinked through her tears, Lucius appeared blurry, his anger softening ever so slightly. Slowly, he released her wrists but didn’t step back. Thea remained pinned between the wall and his rock-hard frame. Their breathing rose and fell in sync, the silence thick with unspoken tension.

For the first time, Lucius seemed to notice just how close they were—her bare thigh brushing against his clothed one. Awareness—and something darker, more primal—flared inside him. Desire, raw and insistent, hummed through every nerve. He pressed closer, hips moving almost of their own accord, and Thea’s involuntary moan cut through the room like music. His thumb brushed against her lips, coaxing them closed as he inhaled her scent: wildflowers, sun after a storm, intoxicating and soothing.

“Lasă gura apă,” he murmured huskily, voice low and dangerous.

Thea’s eyes fluttered open, locking with his, lost in a moment suspended in time. Just as their lips were about to meet, Lucius snapped back, as if doused with ice. He stepped away, leaving Thea nearly toppling to the floor. Her daze shattered.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOMS?” His voice thundered, snapping back to the commanding predator she knew.

Thea froze, startled by the sudden switch. “Are you deaf or mute? I asked you something—answer me!” he barked, eyes glowing blue with fury.

Instead of fear, Thea’s own anger flared. “Stop barking at me!” she snapped.

Lucius blinked. No one had spoken to him like that in centuries. The audacity stunned him. “I was not barking. I am simply asking who you are—or must I summon someone else to translate your ignorance?”

She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

A sharp knock interrupted the standoff.

“ENTER,” Lucius commanded without breaking his gaze.

The door opened slightly, and Jaen stepped in, followed by Kate.

“I see you have met our guest,” Jaen said calmly.

“Why is your guest in my room?” Lucius growled.

Kate stepped forward, calm but resolute. “It was the safest place for her at the moment.”

“That still does not explain why she is here.”

“Viktor,” Kate replied, her voice clipped.

Lucius whirled toward her, eyes glowing, fury radiating from every inch of him. Thea instinctively shifted back, sensing the storm.

“Explain,” Lucius demanded.

“We found her under attack by the Dhārians,” Kate said. “They had her and her friend surrounded.”

Lucius’ frown deepened. “That is nothing unusual. They hunt that way. Why bring her here? You could have beguiled her to forget and sent her on her way, as we always do.”

“She wasn’t food. Her friend was. Viktor’s second insisted she be taken alive,” Kate said firmly.

Lucius turned slowly toward Thea, his eyes narrowing. “Who is she?”

Jaen spoke quickly, almost defensively. “We don’t know. We had to bring her here fast. She was badly hurt. We were waiting for her to recover before questioning her.”

Lucius’ jaw tightened. “I thought you said he wanted her alive. Why is she wounded?”

“She was fine when Xavier left with her. Her injuries are from the crash,” Kate explained.

Thea remained silent, listening, piecing together the chaotic puzzle around her. Either she was losing her mind, or these beings were.

Lucius spun toward her. “WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DOES VIKTOR WANT YOU? ANSWER ME!” he thundered.

“I am asking you questions,” he said, voice low, dangerous, yet carefully controlled. “You will answer them.”

Thea crossed her arms, chin lifted. “I answer no one who treats me like I belong to them.” Her voice trembled only slightly, betraying the adrenaline and fear she was managing to suppress.

Lucius tilted his head, studying her, his lips curling into a faint, incredulous smile. “Bold. Very bold. Do you understand the danger you’re in?”

“Perfectly,” she shot back. “And I don’t care. If I die, at least I’ll die on my own terms, not because some ancient vampire decided to scare me into obedience.”

Lucius’ anger flared, but there was a strange curiosity in his eyes now, as though her defiance intrigued him rather than enraged him outright. “And yet, you are here, in my chambers… alone. Careless or foolish?”

“Neither,” she said sharply. “I am not alone, and I’m not foolish. I’m surviving. That’s what I do. And if you think I’m going to just… tell you everything without a single answer in return—you’re wrong.”

The air between them thickened, charged, each measuring the other. Lucius stepped closer, closing the space despite her protest. Thea braced herself, jaw tight, refusing to back down.

“I am not your lapdog,” she snapped, raising her chin higher. “And I will not be treated like one. You want answers? Fine—but I get answers first. I want to know who the hell you are, what this Viktor wants, and why I’m caught in the middle of your… games.”

She had endured enough. They talked around her as if she were invisible; he had the audacity to command her like a pet. She wouldn’t answer until she understood what she was facing.

Lucius advanced, dangerous and deliberate, pinning her once more against the wall. “Listen carefully. I have no patience for games. People are dying, and we need answers. You will give them, or you will regret it,” he hissed.

Lucius advanced, imposing and commanding, but Thea met every step, forcing him back with her defiance, until his back hit the bed. She jabbed a finger into his chest, standing her ground. “I don’t answer to anyone. Not you. Not Viktor. Not your enforcers. Not anyone.”

A silence fell. Lucius’ expression was a mix of shock, amusement, and grudging respect.

The room went silent. Lucius stared at her, a storm of amusement, shock, and restrained fury playing across his features.

Lucius’ eyes narrowed, pupils dilating with a dangerous glow. He leaned closer, voice smooth but commanding, a subtle pressure threading through the air. “I obligate you,” he said, each word deliberate, heavy with centuries of authority. “Tell me everything you know about Viktor and why he wants you.”

Thea stiffened, jaw tightening. Her pulse hammered in her ears, but she refused to back down. “Obligate all you want,” she snapped, her voice sharp as shattered glass. “I don’t answer to you. I don’t answer anyone. And I especially don’t answer to some self-important immortal who thinks he can command me with words.”

Lucius blinked, just for a heartbeat, taken aback. The air seemed to shiver around her. “Do you realize what you’re—”

“Do you realize what you’re doing?” she cut him off, stepping forward despite his looming presence, chest lifted defiantly. “You think saying some magic word—or whatever that was—gives you the right to bend me? Wrong. Not happening. Not today. Not ever.”

“Why didn’t it work?”

“There are two possibilities,” Jaen said evenly. “Either she is yours… or she isn’t human.”

Thea froze. They thought she wasn’t human.

“Kate, try,” Jaen prompted.

Kate stepped forward, eyes narrowing, pupils dilating as she fixed Thea with her gaze. “Tell us everything you know about Viktor and why he wants you,” she commanded.

Thea groaned, rubbing her temples. “OK… the whole crazy-eyes thing is freaking me out,” she muttered.

Lucius’ voice cut softly, almost mesmerized. “What are you?”

The question lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken truths, and for the first time, Thea wondered if she even knew the answer herself.

*vocab*

lasă gura apă = mouth watering