Episode 1
1713 Words
“Stay back.” My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it, my back pressed firmly against the cabin door as if the thin wood could shield me from the man in front of me. Leandros didn’t move away. If anything, he stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between us, his gaze sharp enough to pin me in place. There was something deeply unsettling about the way he looked at me, not just like a threat, but like he was assessing me, weighing something unseen.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his tone rough and edged with impatience, though beneath it, there was something else, strain.
I swallowed, forcing my voice to hold. “You’re in no position to be interrogating anyone.”
For a brief second, surprise flickered across his face, but it vanished quickly as pain overtook it. His hand tightened against his side, and that was when I saw it properly: the wound. Dark blood soaked through his clothing, far too much, far too thick, and my stomach twisted at the sight.
“You’re badly injured,” I said, stepping forward before I could stop myself.
“Don’t,” he warned, his voice lower now.
I ignored him. “Standing there pretending you’re fine won’t fix that. You’ll collapse before you get another word out.”
As if to prove my point, his balance faltered. It was subtle, but enough. I reacted instantly, catching him before he could hit the ground. The moment I touched him, a strange sensation shot through me, like warmth and something sharper colliding beneath my skin but I pushed it aside, focusing on keeping him upright.
“Keys,” I said quickly. “Where are they?”
He hesitated, then nodded weakly toward his coat. “Pocket.”
I reached in, retrieving them with unsteady fingers before unlocking the door and guiding him inside. The warmth of the cabin wrapped around us, oddly comforting despite everything. It didn’t match him at all. “Sit,” I said, easing him down.
He didn’t argue.
I scanned the room quickly, searching for anything useful, but found nothing. “You don’t have anything to treat this?” I asked, frustration creeping in.
“I don’t need it,” he muttered, though the strain in his voice betrayed him.
“You clearly do.”
Silence stretched before he spoke again. “I need blood.”
I exhaled slowly. Of course he did.
“Animals?” I asked. “Anything nearby?”
“No.”
I looked back at the wound, my chest tightening. “Who did this to you?”
“Wolves.”
I narrowed my eyes. “One?”
“…A pack.”
That made more sense and somehow made it worse. I shook my head slightly, trying to think. “You shouldn’t even be alive.”
A faint, humorless smirk touched his lips. “Yet I am.”
“Barely.”
He studied me then, more carefully. “Why are you helping me?”
The question caught me off guard. I glanced down at my hands, still stained with his blood. “I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “Maybe because you haven’t tried to kill me yet.”
He let out a quiet breath, almost amused. “That’s a weak reason.”
“It’s enough.”
His gaze lingered, then shifted. “Your name.”
“Elara.”
He repeated it slowly, like it meant something. “Elara…”
“And yours?”
A pause. “Lyo.”
The name settled heavily between us.
I looked back at his wound. “You’re not going to survive like this.”
“I know.”
That calm acceptance irritated something in me. “Then stop acting like it’s already over.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Yes, there is.” I met his eyes. “You need blood.”
His expression hardened instantly. “No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“I know what you’re suggesting.”
“Then stop wasting time,” I snapped softly. “Because you’re running out of it.”
He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You don’t understand what you’re offering.”
“Then explain it,” I challenged. “Because from where I’m standing, you don’t have options.”
His breathing faltered slightly. Pain was winning.
I stepped closer. “I’m not letting you die.”
“Elara...”
“I’m serious.”
Silence stretched, heavy and charged, before I slowly lifted my hand to my neck, pulling aside the fabric that covered it. His reaction was immediate. His gaze dropped, locking onto the exposed skin, something dark flickering in his eyes.
“Do it,” I whispered.
And that’s when everything shifted. He leaned in and kissed me, and I didn’t know this was part of the plan. Instantly, his soft lips ravished my own, as I felt butterflies flutter into my stomach from being held and kissed for the first time, before my hands circled around his neck to bring him closer, as he gently continued the kiss. Kissing me was not necessary, but I wasn’t complaining. What was I doing? Kissing an enemy feared by everyone in my village, letting myself melt into something I didn’t understand. I gave him my first kiss willingly, and the realization only made everything feel more intense.
His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer as my body responded without hesitation, my legs wrapping around him as if they had a mind of their own. The kiss deepened, slower, heavier, and something inside me unraveled completely. It felt like I was finally alive, like everything I had been missing had suddenly found me in the most unexpected way. His lips, his touch, the way he held me, it all felt too real, too consuming.
A soft sound escaped me as his fangs grazed my bottom lip, sending a shiver through me, and he responded with a low growl that only made my grip tighten. When he finally pulled away, it wasn’t to stop, but to trail his lips along my jaw, down my neck, each touch deliberate, almost careful, as if he was trying to prepare me for what was coming.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him forward even as my heart raced wildly in my chest. His touch grew more confident, his movements more certain, and when he found the place that made my breath catch, everything inside me gave way.
“Just… do it,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
That was all it took.
He stilled for a fraction of a second before his restraint snapped completely. A low, almost feral sound left him as he pressed closer, and then—
Pain.
Sharp, sudden, real.
I gasped as his fangs pierced my skin, my hands tightening in his hair as the sensation overwhelmed me. He didn’t hesitate. He drank, desperate at first, like he had been starving for far too long, and I felt it—the pull, the strange heat spreading through me even as my strength began to fade.
“Lyo…” I breathed weakly, my voice barely holding.
He didn’t stop right away. My body grew heavier, my thoughts slipping, the world around me fading at the edges. For a moment, fear flickered, brief, sharp, but it didn’t last.
Because slowly, his movements changed.
The urgency softened. His grip, though still firm, became steadier, more controlled, like he was forcing himself to slow down, to not take too much.
And then he started to bite differently, turning the aching torture into s****l pleasure, as it started making me feel things on the tip of my tongue, and I moaned out loud.
I could feel my life force leaving my body as he drank as much as he could, while his blood was dripping onto my own figure, and I closed my teary eyes from the overwhelming emotions I was feeling.
I could definitely say he had more blood than he needed, but kept in mind I can't die, as he slipped tongue to make me feel better, and I groaned out loud.
He then slowly started to slow down, finally ending the s****l tension, retracting his fangs in a torturing manner, sucking my wound gently to heal it with his saliva, as he sighed into my neck in content, while I rubbed myself against his hold.
He then looked at me, witnessing my almost glossy orbs, while licking his bloody mouth, before kissing me on the forehead gently.
When he finally pulled away, the silence that followed felt overwhelming.
My body sagged against him, my strength nearly gone as his arm tightened around me, keeping me upright. His breathing was uneven, but stronger now, and when I forced my eyes open to look at him, something had changed.
Not just stronger.
Something else.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured.
I swallowed weakly. “You’re… alive.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not the problem.”
A slow unease crept into my chest. “What do you mean…?”
His gaze dropped to my neck again, his expression shifting into something I couldn’t quite understand. Not hunger.
Something deeper.
“You gave me too much,” he said quietly.
My breath caught. “I...”
The words never came. A wave of dizziness hit me hard, pulling everything out from under me. My body went slack, my grip loosening as darkness crept into my vision.
“Elara.” My name came out sharper now, more controlled, his hand lifting to steady my face. “Look at me.”
I tried.
But everything was slipping too fast.
“What… did you do…” I whispered.
For a brief moment, something flickered across his face, something uncertain but it disappeared just as quickly.
“You don’t understand,” he said quietly. “You weren’t supposed to survive this.”
My heart stuttered weakly.
His grip tightened, pulling me closer, his voice lowering into something final.
“But you will.”
His thumb brushed slowly along my jaw, his gaze locking onto mine with dangerous certainty.
“Because now…”
My breath caught.
“…you’re mine.”
- Writer
