Claimed by the Vampire King

Chapter 5: The Blood Pact

The next morning I woke up alone.

Damian was gone, but a note lay on the pillow:

"Meeting with the council. Stay inside. Victor will guard the door. —D"

I showered, dressed in clothes that had magically appeared in the closet (all my size, all expensive), and wandered the penthouse.

It felt like a cage disguised as luxury.

Victor — the tall vampire with the scar across his cheek — stood outside the main door like a statue.

He didn't speak when I passed.

I tried the elevator. It wouldn't move without a code.

I tried the windows. Bulletproof glass.

I was trapped.

Hours passed.

I paced, anger building.

When the elevator finally dinged, Damian stepped out, looking tired.

He saw my face and sighed.

"You didn't leave the penthouse."

"I couldn't."

He walked past me to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of red liquid.

"Talk to me," I said. "No more secrets."

He drank, then set the glass down.

"The council knows about your blood. They want to use it — to make more vampires immune to sunlight."

"And you?"

"I told them no. You're under my protection."

"They accepted that?"

"Not happily."

He looked at me. "They gave me a week to decide. If I refuse, they will take you by force."

My stomach dropped.

"So I'm a bargaining chip."

"You're more than that."

He stepped closer.

"You're the first human in centuries to make me feel something real."

I swallowed. "And if I refuse to give my blood?"

"They'll kill you. Or worse — force it."

I backed up until I hit the counter.

He caged me with his arms on either side.

"But I won't let them."

His voice was low, almost a growl.

I looked up into his eyes — crimson, intense.

"You keep saying that. But why should I trust you?"

"Because the bond is real. You feel it too."

I did. A constant pull, like gravity.

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

"Let me show you."

His fangs grazed my neck — not biting, just teasing.

My breath hitched.

"Damian..."

"Say yes," he whispered. "Let me protect you the only way I can."

The bond hummed, urging me closer.

I tilted my head.

He bit gently.

Pleasure flooded me again — stronger this time.

I gripped his shoulders, nails digging in.

When he pulled back, his eyes were glowing.

"Your blood... it's changing me."

"How?"

"I feel warmth. Heartbeat. Things I haven't felt in centuries."

He kissed me — deep, desperate.

We stumbled to the couch.

Clothes disappeared.

This time, there was no hesitation.

His touch was cold fire, every caress, felt like a promise.

When we finally joined, the bond snapped tighter.

I cried out his name.

He whispered mine — over and over.

After, he held me against his chest.

"You're mine now," he said. "In every way."

"And you?"

"I'm yours."

But as I drifted to sleep, the voice returned — faint, but there.

"Soon," it whispered. "Soon you'll see."

I pushed it away.

But I knew.

The council wouldn't wait a week.

They would come sooner.

And when they did, I would have to choose.

Give my blood.

Or fight.

And if I fought...

I might lose everything.