Feral Cravings

Chapter 11 – Into the Lion’s Den

Tasha’s POV

I should’ve been smarter about this.

Should’ve called in favors, gathered information, prepared.

But Rhea didn’t have time for that.

And I wasn’t about to leave her in the hands of whoever the hell those bastards were.

So I did the one thing every instinct in my body screamed not to do.

I went straight to Blackthorne Mansion.

It was easy to find. I’d heard the stories—everyone had.

A fortress on the edge of the city. Too well-maintained to be abandoned, too secretive to be occupied by normal people. Rumors swirled about the monsters that lived there.

And tonight?

I was meeting them face-to-face.

---

I walked up the long, winding driveway, my boots crunching against gravel. The air smelled wrong.

Not human.

Werewolf.

But not just wolves.

Something more. Something ancient.

My fangs ached in my gums. My body tensed.

There were only a handful of creatures I didn’t want to piss off in this city.

And I had a feeling I was about to meet three of them.

I reached the front door and knocked once.

No answer.

I knocked again, harder. “Open up.”

Still nothing.

Fine.

I wasn’t in the mood to be polite anyway.

I kicked the door open.

---

The mansion was too quiet.

Too controlled.

I stepped inside, letting my senses adjust. The scent of wolves was stronger here, mixed with something richer. Power.

Then—footsteps.

Slow. Measured. Predatory.

A man appeared at the top of the grand staircase.

Tall. Broad shoulders. Cold crimson eyes.

Vampire.

He smirked as he leaned against the railing, arms crossed. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

His voice was smooth, too amused.

I curled my fingers into fists. “Where is she?”

He tilted his head, as if considering whether or not to humor me.

“Ah,” he murmured. “You must be the friend.”

I clenched my jaw. “Bring her to me. Now.”

The vampire chuckled. Actually chuckled.

I was about to rip his throat out.

Then—another presence.

A heavier one.

The scent of Lycan filled the space before I even saw him.

Another man stepped forward, golden-eyed, radiating dominance.

Power curled around him like a second skin. A king in his own right.

And he was looking at me like I was an unwelcome guest.

Which, technically, I was.

His voice was slow, dangerous. “You’re trespassing.”

I bared my fangs. “You took my friend.”

His eyes darkened. “She’s not a prisoner.”

Liar.

I took a step forward, uncaring that I was alone. Uncaring that they could probably rip me apart before I even had the chance to fight back.

“Then let me see her.”

A heavy pause.

Then—another set of footsteps.

A third man appeared, all rough edges and sharp, knowing eyes.

This one was a werewolf.

An Alpha.

And he was watching me carefully.

I could tell what he was doing. Sizing me up.

“You’re a vampire,” he finally said.

“No shit.”

He smirked.

The vampire beside him sighed. “You know, I like her already.”

I ignored them, my patience wearing thin. “Where. Is. Rhea?”

Silence.

Then the Alpha’s smirk faded slightly. “She’s asleep.”

My stomach twisted. “Asleep or unconscious?”

He shrugged. “She ate. She’s resting.”

I didn’t believe them.

I didn’t trust them.

But I needed to see her.

I inhaled slowly, my fingers twitching. “If she doesn’t want to be here, I’m taking her with me.”

The Lycan King exhaled. “That’s not up to you.”

His voice held finality.

And something colder.

Something that told me exactly what I didn’t want to hear.

Rhea wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither was I.