CHAPTER THIRTEEN — What Lurks Beneath His Skin
1200 Words
(Seraphina’s POV)
Blood spread slowly across the marble floor.
Dark.
Thick.
Still warm.
I couldn’t stop staring at it.
At the body.
At the hole torn clean through the vampire’s chest.
At the heart lying in Lord Michael’s hand like it meant absolutely nothing.
The hallway smelled like iron and death.
And suddenly…
Everything became real.
Not the ballroom.
Not the whispers.
Not the disappearances.
This.
This was the reality hidden beneath the beauty.
Monsters existed.
And I was standing in the middle of them.
Michael slowly let the dead heart fall to the floor.
The sound was soft and wet.
My stomach twisted.
Beside me, Lydia trembled violently, clutching my arm hard enough to hurt.
I barely noticed because Michael’s eyes were on me now.
Watching carefully.
Measuring my reaction.
I forced myself not to step back.
Not to flinch.
Fear was dangerous here. Predators noticed fear. And Michael…
Michael noticed everything.
“You should return to your room,” he said calmly.
As if he hadn’t just ripped someone apart with his bare hands.
My voice came out quieter than I intended.
“What was that?”
Michael tilted his head slightly.
“A mistake.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Silence.
Behind him, Lucien Draven stood slowly from the broken remains of the wall, blood staining part of his black shirt.
He looked unharmed.
Mostly annoyed. Which somehow disturbed me even more.
Michael glanced toward him briefly.
“You let him inside the estate.”
Lucien wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
“He wasn’t alone.”
My pulse quickened instantly.
Not alone?
Michael’s expression darkened slightly.
“How many?”
“Three escaped.” A tense silence followed.
The air itself felt dangerous.
Then Michael turned back toward me.
And just like that…
The softness returned.
Terrifying.
Because it proved the monster beneath his skin could disappear whenever he wanted.
“Take Lydia upstairs,” he said quietly.
I didn’t move.
“Who were they?”
Michael’s eyes held mine steadily.
“Hungry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Something flickered in his gaze.
Amusement.
Maybe irritation.
“Human curiosity is exhausting.”
“And murder is exhausting to watch.”
Lucien made a quiet sound beside us. Almost like he was trying not to react.
Michael stared at me for a long moment.
Then slowly…
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Blood still stained his hand.
My body instinctively tensed.And his eyes noticed immediately.
“There it is,” he murmured softly.
“What?”
“Fear.”
The word settled sharply between us.I hated how accurate it was, because for the first time since coming here…
I was afraid of him. And somehow…
He looked pleased by that.
“You should be careful,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because now,” he murmured, “you finally understand what I am.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips.
Then back to my eyes.
“And yet you’re still standing here.”
The tension between us thickened instantly.
Dark.
Dangerous.I should have walked away. Instead, I lifted my chin slightly.
“You think fear makes me weak?”
Michael’s smile was slow.
Predatory.
“No,” he said softly.
“I think fear makes people honest.”
For one terrible second…
I felt it again. That pull. That dangerous fascination.
Because beneath the violence…
Beneath the blood and death…
Michael possessed something terrifyingly seductive power.
Absolute power.
And people were drawn to power even when it destroyed them.
Lucien suddenly stepped between us.
Subtle.
Protective.
“You’re frightening her.”
Michael’s eyes shifted toward him lazily.
“She’s still here.”
“Yes,” Lucien replied coldly.
“That concerns me.”
Something unreadable passed between them again.
Old tension.
Buried violence.
I looked between both men carefully.
The more time I spent here, the clearer it became—
Lucien wasn’t loyal to Michael. Not truly.
And Michael knew it.
Interesting.
Michael finally stepped back.
“Take the girl upstairs,” he repeated calmly.
This time, I obeyed.
Mostly because Lydia looked seconds away from collapsing entirely.
I guided her down the hallway carefully while Lucien followed behind us in silence.
The mansion felt different now.
Less elegant.
More dangerous.
Like seeing a beautiful animal moments after it ripped something apart.
Once we reached an empty bedroom, Lydia finally broke. She burst into tears instantly.
Violent shaking sobs.
I wrapped my arms around her automatically.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
Another lie.
Nothing was okay. But she clung to me desperately anyway.
After several minutes, her breathing finally slowed slightly.
“He killed Clara,” she whispered shakily.
I frowned.
“Who?”
“One of the girls downstairs…” Lydia’s voice cracked. “The vampire who escaped… he killed her.”
Cold rage slid through me.
Another victim.
Another girl destroyed in this nightmare.
“How long have you been here?” I asked softly.
“Three months.”
Three months.
God.
“What happens to the girls after they’re sold?”
Lydia’s face paled instantly.
“Sometimes they disappear forever.”
The room went cold around me.
“And the others?”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“They come back different.”
Different.
Not dead.
Not alive.
Changed.
I thought about the feral vampire downstairs.
The glowing red eyes.
The hunger.
Oh God.
Some of them were being turned.
The realization hit me so hard I nearly stopped breathing.
This wasn’t just trafficking.
It was conversion.
Corruption.
Transformation.
A system designed to create monsters.
Lucien stood quietly near the doorway watching me carefully.
Like he could see every horrifying conclusion forming in my mind.
“You knew,” I said softly.
His expression remained unreadable.
“Yes.”
Anger flashed through me instantly.
“And you still work for him?”
That hit something.
Pain flickered across his face so quickly I almost missed it.
“You think I have a choice?”
The bitterness in his voice silenced me.
For the first time…
I realized Lucien might not simply be Michael’s ally.
He might be his prisoner too. The thought changed everything.
Lucien looked toward the window briefly before speaking again.
“You should sleep.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“No,” he murmured quietly.
“Probably not.”
For a moment, silence settled between us.
Heavy but strangely softer now.
Then—
His gaze moved toward me slowly.
“You’re trembling.”
I looked down.
He was right.
Not visibly.
Barely noticeable.
But my hands shook slightly anyway.
Lucien stepped closer carefully.
Like approaching something fragile.
“You hide fear well,” he said softly.
“I learned young.”
His eyes searched mine.
“And who taught you that?”
Pain tightened unexpectedly in my chest.
“My parents died when I was sixteen.”
Something shifted instantly in his expression.
Understanding.
Not pity.
Never pity.
Recognition.
Like he knew exactly what losing everything felt like.
And somehow…
That frightened me more than the monsters did.
Because for the first time since arriving here…
I didn’t just feel connected to vengeance.
I felt connected to him.
- Writer
