My Immortal Hunger

Four

Her head throbbed as though a ton of bricks had fallen on it, and her entire body ached from every direction. Thea lay half-conscious, hearing distant voices that seemed far away, muffled, almost unreal. She blinked slowly, forcing her eyes open, and realized she wasn’t in a hospital room. Instead, she was on a large, impossibly soft bed. The dim light of the room cast long shadows across the Victorian-styled décor, rich with dark wood and velvet drapes.

At the foot of the bed, two figures stood quietly, their conversation low but clear.

“Will she be all right?”

“The worst was the gash on her head—she needed a few stitches. Aside from a couple of bruises, she’s got a fractured rib, but she should be fine in a few days.”

The memories came crashing back: the SUV, the crash, Xavier, the monsters attacking Faye…

“FAYE!” Thea bolted upright, only to black out for a few seconds, nausea rolling over her as she pressed a hand to her throbbing head.

“Easy now,” a smooth, English-accented voice urged. A man—tall, controlled, his presence commanding—was at her side, easing her back onto the bed.

“Faye… what happened to her?” Thea’s voice trembled with worry.

“Dmitri is with her,” said the woman, Kate, her expression calm but sharp. “She’s safe.”

Thea exhaled slowly, relief washing over her, though it did little to erase the pounding in her skull.

Kate studied her intently. “Do you know what the Dhārians wanted from you?”

“The… Dhārians?” Thea’s voice was soft, tentative.

“The men who attacked you and Faye,” Kate clarified.

“No. I’ve never seen them before today,” Thea admitted, fatigue pulling at her eyelids. “Xavier… the big one… he said someone wanted me alive. Why?”

“Seems she’s who we think she is, Jaen,” Kate murmured, eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Thea.

Jaen stepped closer, assessing Thea carefully. “It appears so. But she should rest. She might reveal more after sleep.”

“I just… I need to hear Faye’s voice,” Thea pleaded.

“There will be time for that,” Jaen said gently. “For now… sleep. Do you want something to help with that?”

Thea shook her head lightly, surrendering. “Very well.” His voice was soft, lulling her into a haze of drowsiness as her eyelids fell heavy.

Kate glanced at Jaen. “Do you think it’s wise to keep her here? Lucius will be furious.”

“He will,” Jaen admitted, “but these rooms are the safest. Did you see the looks on some of the stragglers? They’d be uncontrollable if she were anywhere else… a human—and a bloody one at that.”

Kate exhaled, uneasy. “Let’s hope Lucius allows an explanation before he decapitates us.”

“The Dark Lord enjoys toying with death,” Kate added.

Thea’s eyes finally closed. She let the exhaustion claim her, surrendering to the darkness that promised oblivion.

Rain pelted down as Lucius crouched atop the highest rooftop he could find, the leather of his trench coat soaked through, sword in hand. The streets below glistened under the downpour, blurred and empty, yet he could sense every movement. The sun’s pull was imminent, gnawing at his strength. He needed his prey, and soon.

Then he saw it: a wounded vampire, limping through the alley. Lucius smirked, amusement flashing. It was rare he hunted personally; usually, his enforcers did the work. But this night demanded it.

The vampire paused, sensing him, and fled. Lucius moved with effortless grace, appearing before the creature again. Its eyes glowed red, the telltale mark of a fallen Dhārian.

“Please… I didn’t mean to hurt that boy. I was just hungry,” the vampire stammered, trembling.

Lucius’s sword gleamed. “What are Viktor’s plans?”

“I… I don’t know! I swear!”

“Then you are of no use.” His voice was a cold blade as he raised the sword.

“He’s looking for someone!” the vampire blurted.

“Who?”

“I… I’m just a foot soldier!”

Lucius’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Think carefully. Viktor’s plans—what are they?”

“Xavier… he’s looking for a human with a particular bloodline. They say the blood is special.”

Lucius’s frown deepened. “And his progress?”

“He’s… had five girls, three boys, but none are right.”

Lucius’s thoughts raced. Viktor’s obsession with this human, this bloodline… it couldn’t bode well. With a final glance at the vampire, he gave one last warning.

“Leave, if you wish to keep your head. Next time… I won’t hesitate.”

The creature vanished, leaving Lucius to his grim contemplation. Viktor’s machinations were deeper, more dangerous, and Lucius knew he had to unravel them—before dawn, before catastrophe.

Thea stirred, groggy, her head pounding like a drum. She felt the stiffness in her body as if she’d been twisted and broken in every direction. A soft voice broke the fog of her thoughts.

“Miss, if you’re able, there’s a shower prepared for you. Fresh towels and clothes are in the adjoining room,” a maid said gently, bowing slightly at the doorway. Her presence was calm, soothing, an anchor in Thea’s spinning world.

“I… thank you,” Thea whispered, her throat dry, voice hoarse.

The maid offered a reassuring nod. “Take your time. You’ve had a long night. I’ll leave you to it.”

Slowly, Thea swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, grounding her for the first time since the chaos. She followed the maid’s instructions and found the bathroom. The fogged mirror reflected a shattered image: dried blood tangled in her hair, a busted lip, a bruise forming beneath her eye, and a deep gash on her temple that clearly demanded stitches.

She stepped under the hot water, letting it wash away the grime, the tension, the remnants of fear. The heat seeped into her muscles, coaxing some sense of life back into her aching body. Wrapped in a towel, she gazed into the mirror again, tears prickling her eyes as exhaustion threatened to swallow her whole. She slid to the floor in a fetal position, letting the silence cradle her, until she forced herself upright.

Her gaze drifted to a dresser across the room. Hesitant, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a simple shirt, the first thing her hands found. As she lifted it, the warm scent of cinnamon and wood drifted up to her, making her pause. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. Why am I enjoying this? she muttered to herself, snapping the shirt into place over her mid-thigh.

Dawn crept through the curtains, painting the room in golden light. Thea approached the window, letting its warmth seep into her bones. After the horrors of last night, she clung to the fragile promise of a better day.

And then the glass seemed to blacken, shadows swallowing the morning light.

Before she could react, the door burst open.

A presence filled the room, impossibly close, impossibly overwhelming. Thea barely had time to register him before he pinned her against the wall, hands framing her head, his body pressing her taut. Her breath caught—not from fear, but a dizzying swirl of awe and something she couldn’t name. His scent—woodsy, sharp, intoxicating—enveloped her completely. His eyes glowed an unearthly blue, jaw chiseled, lips impossibly kissable. His gaze swept over her, memorizing every detail, every vulnerable curve.

Lucius had smelled her long before she saw him. Even through the sprawling castle, the scent of human blood—fresh, sweet, and so unfamiliar—had drawn him. He had tracked it instinctively, moving through corridors and stairwells with predatory precision until he found her. Standing there, wearing his shirt, oblivious to the effect she had on him, she was alive, and intoxicating beyond reason.

In an instant, he had her pinned. His heightened senses took in every detail—the delicate curve of her lips, the soft line of her nose, the color of her amber eyes—but it was her injuries that ignited the first spark of anger: the cut lip, the stitches on her temple. Protective, possessive, he had never felt such a fierce surge in a thousand years.

And then her words, sharp and defiant, cut through him like a blade.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

Lucius froze, his blue eyes locking on hers, every muscle taut, every instinct on fire. She was human. Fragile. Dangerous in ways he could not yet define. And in that instant, he knew the castle, the night, and everything in his long existence would never be the same again.