Secrets and Broken Hearts

Chapter 13: Reclaimed

From the edge of the darkened VIP corridor, the world narrowed down to a single, agonizing focal point: Ana.

​She was standing on the crowded dance floor, her vibrant red gown catching the strobing lights, her body pressed entirely too close to another man. Stefan. The mere sound of his name in my mind tasted like ash and copper. He was nothing—a mortal fly buzzing too close to a fire he didn't understand. And yet, there she was, leaning into him, letting his hands trace the curve of her waist, throwing back her head with that melodic, defiant laugh that felt specifically designed to shred the remaining shreds of my restraint.

​My heightened vampire hearing sliced effortlessly through the pulsing thrum of the lounge's speakers, the chatter of the socialites, and the clinking of champagne flutes. I didn't just watch her play her game; I heard the deliberate calculations behind her whispers. I caught the exact moment she murmured to Stefan, weaponizing his ignorant adoration just to provoke a reaction from me. She thought she was being clever, using him as a human shield, acting out a role to convince herself—and the room—that she was free.

​Whether she went by Ana on her pop-star marquees or Anna to the few who knew her, it changed nothing. Call her Anna or Ana, she belonged to me. That truth was carved into our history, sealed by a connection that distance and time had never managed to truly sever. She could play all the games she wanted, but she was only lying to herself.

​Beside me, a low, warning sigh cut through the heavy air. Damien shifted his weight, his tall frame stepping half an inch into my path, a silent barrier of caution.

​"Nicholas," Damien’s voice was a low, cautious murmur meant only for my ears. He kept his eyes fixed on the dance floor, tracking the sickening proximity between Ana and the mortal. "Control yourself. The Vampire Council will not tolerate scandals that could expose our kind to humanity. If you walk out there and tear that boy apart in the middle of a crowded lounge, the clean-up won't just be messy—it will force their hand. Give her space to burn herself out."

​I didn't blink. My gaze remained locked on the way Ana’s fingers curled into Stefan’s lapels.

​"Space?" I repetitions, the word tasting like venom on my tongue. The muscle in my jaw ticked violently, a physical manifestation of the boiling fury threatening to rupture my veins. "She isn't asking for space, Damien. She’s daring me to level this entire building."

​"And if you do, you play right into her hands," Damien pressed, his hand coming up to hover near my shoulder, ready to hold me back if I made a sudden move. "She wants you angry. She wants you unhinged. Walk away for tonight. Let her sleep on it, and—"

​I didn't wait to hear the rest.

​The sound of Damien’s advice dissolved into white noise as the final thread of my patience snapped.

​There was only one direction left. Only one outcome that mattered.

​I didn't care about the elite, the Council, or the cameras flashing in the distance.

​With slow, predatory strides, I cut across the polished floorboards, my crimson eyes locked entirely on the target. As I closed the final distance between the shadows and the dance floor, Stefan suddenly stiffened, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere or perhaps catching my reflection over Ana’s shoulder.

​Before the mortal could even fully turn to face the threat, my hand shot out, gripping his shoulder with a crushing, immovable force.

​"Dance is over," I snarled, my voice vibrating with dark, supernatural authority.

​Stefan’s eyes glazed over instantly, the defiance in his posture draining away under the heavy weight of my compulsion. I didn't even need to raise my voice; the command rippled through the air, sinking straight into his vulnerable human mind.

​"Walk away," I ordered quietly, my crimson gaze locking onto his. "Forget you were ever here, and leave us."

​Stefan blinked once, a vacant expression crossing his features, before he obediently turned on his heel and disappeared into the thick of the crowd, completely powerless to resist.

​Before Ana could draw a breath to protest, my other arm swept forward, wrapping securely around her waist. With a swift, irresistible pull, I dragged her straight out of the space where she had been playing her dangerous game and hauled her hard against my chest, cutting her off from the rest of the world.

​She gasped, her hands flying up to press against my lapels as she tried to put distance between us, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fury. But I didn't give her an inch.

​With the music still thudding against the walls and oblivious mortals bumping past us in the dense press of the crowded dance floor, I tightened my grip, forcing us to move with the rhythm of the room. We were surrounded on all sides by sweating, dancing bodies, completely masked by the chaotic energy of the gala.

​"You think you can use this man to test my patience?" I murmured, my lips brushing dangerously close to her ear as I forced her body to move with mine, locking us into a relentless, inescapable rhythm. "You belong to me, Ana. No games, no shields, and no running away."