Chapter Three — The Blood That Calls
1391 Words
⭐ POV: ARIA ⭐
Three days.
That’s how long it had been since he appeared in the library—then vanished like a ghost with excellent hair.
Three days since he told me to forget him.
Like that could ever happen.
Zara had already diagnosed me with mystery man fever, which was apparently incurable without a name and phone number.
Except… I had a name.
Damon.
I whispered it sometimes when I was alone, testing how it felt on my tongue.
Dangerous.
Forbidden.
Way too delicious for someone who looked at me like he’d eat me alive if he got too close.
But the problem wasn’t that I remembered him.
The problem was… he kept showing up.
Not directly. But I felt him.
Like the air around me changed when he was near, charged with something cold and ancient.
Like shadows leaned in, listening.
I was losing my mind.
---
Friday night, Zara dragged me to a bar downtown—because apparently trauma tastes better with cocktails.
“This is called coping,” she declared, linking her arm with mine as neon lights washed over us. “Welcome back to living.”
I tried. I really did.
Music, drinks, laughing strangers—normal things.
Until Zara’s gaze snapped toward the street.
“Oh. My. God.” She clutched my wrist. “Aria. Do you see that?”
I did.
Across the road stood a skyscraper—tall, sleek, and ominously dark.
Lights glowing deep violet at the top like watchful, predatory eyes.
A sign glimmered:
VESPER TOWER
Nightclub & Hotel
My heart fell into my shoes.
I didn’t need to search a phone directory to know who owned that building.
“He said he wanted me to stay away,” I murmured.
“So obviously,” Zara grinned, “we go inside.”
---
The bouncer’s eyes widened as soon as he looked at me.
“I—uh—VIP?” he stammered.
“Huh?”
He stepped aside instantly. “Go right in, miss.”
Zara and I exchanged confused looks but didn’t question free access to expensive nightlife. We strutted in.
Inside was… breathtaking.
A cathedral of dark glass and gold.
Music pulsed like a heartbeat—deep, primal.
People danced like they were worshipping something unseen.
And something unseen watched back.
Cold prickles ran up my arms.
“Aria?” Zara’s voice floated, muffled by the music. “You okay?”
No.
I wasn’t.
Someone brushed by me—fast, silent.
A whisper followed:
“Leave.”
My heart skidded.
I turned sharply.
Nothing there.
But then—I saw him.
Up on a mezzanine balcony, half-hidden by darkness—Damon. Hands braced on the rail, eyes locked directly onto mine.
Silver.
Sharp.
Possessive.
Heat and ice collided inside me.
He wasn’t happy I was here.
But he also wasn’t looking away.
Our connection was a live wire.
Terrifying.
Irresistible.
I stepped forward.
Zara grabbed my arm. “Bathroom. Now.”
“What? No—”
She dragged me away, weaving through dancers until we reached the hallway. The music dimmed. I exhaled—
—and then the lights flickered.
For a heartbeat, everything went black.
When the lights returned, Zara was gone.
My pulse erupted.
“Zara?”
Silence.
Cold.
Thick.
Two shadows peeled away from the wall—too tall, too still to be human.
Instinct screamed. Run.
I bolted, heels clacking against marble, breath burning.
A door appeared near the end of the corridor. I flung it open and slammed it shut behind me—
Only to find myself nose-to-chest with someone.
Cold fingers curled around my waist.
“Aria.”
Damon.
I was trembling—but not entirely from fear. His presence was overwhelming. Like the night had an owner…and I was between his teeth.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled softly.
“You own the building,” I shot back. “Do you expect me to avoid every street you touch?”
“Yes.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you are reckless.” His voice darkened. “There are… things in this world that would tear you apart.”
He wasn’t talking about himself.
That terrified me more.
“Where’s my friend?” I demanded.
His jaw tensed. “Safe. For now.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“You don’t belong in my world, Aria.”
“Then stop pulling me into it.”
That stopped him.
He stared at me like I’d spoken a truth he’d spent centuries denying.
“You’re not like the rest of them,” he murmured.
Heat crept up my neck. “So I’ve heard.”
His hand slid from my waist—slow reluctantly—like he hated the idea of letting go.
“Go home,” he whispered. “Before it becomes impossible.”
“For who?” I challenged.
His gaze dropped to my lips.
“Both of us.”
The lights flickered again. He stiffened.
“They found you,” he hissed.
“Who?”
He didn’t answer. He grabbed my hand, cold and strong.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered—
—and the world blurred.
Like wind.
Like shadows folding.
Like teleportation.
We were suddenly standing… in my bedroom.
---
I staggered, dizzy. He caught me, steadied me like I weighed nothing.
“How—?”
“Shadows are my servants,” he said, matter-of-fact.
“I… see.” I absolutely did not see.
He stepped back, breathing hard—as if holding me damaged him.
“I can’t stay,” he forced out.
“But something is hunting you, and I will not let it take you.”
“Why?” My voice barely held.
His eyes were a storm.
“Because I saw you die once,” he whispered. “And that was enough.”
He disappeared.
And I was alone again…
With a thousand new terrors
—and a single black feather on my desk.
The same feather.
It wasn’t my imagination.
Someone else wanted me dead.
And Damon Vesper was the only monster willing to protect me.
But what if he wanted me for himself?
~ ~ ~
---
⭐ POV: DAMON ⭐
This was madness.
I stood on a rooftop across from her window, fists clenched so tight I could feel the stone beneath my nails crack.
She defied everything I ordered.
Everything I feared.
She walked into my world like a doe stepping into a den of wolves—beautiful, naïve, unprepared.
I should have erased myself from her memory the moment I saved her.
I tried.
The shadows refused.
They obeyed me in all things… except where she was concerned.
That alone should have terrified me.
I watched her inside her room.
She paced.
She hugged her arms around herself.
She looked so breakable…
And yet she survived what should have killed her.
Why?
Because her blood is not mortal.
Because powers older than empires stir inside her veins.
Because she is the one fate promised would destroy me—
or save me.
My jaw clenched.
I never wanted destiny.
I never wanted a mate bond.
I never wanted… this.
But the moment her lips parted and she said “Too late”…
I broke.
I am not a man.
I am a predator.
And predators do not fall in love with prey.
They claim it.
Her scent reached me even from here—jasmine, rain, and something forbidden.
My fangs ached.
My restraint frayed.
She looked toward the window suddenly—eyes searching the shadows.
She felt me.
As if the bond were already taking root.
Damnation.
Darkness shifted behind me.
My second-in-command emerged, black armor glinting, fangs bared in warning.
“Prince Damon,” he growled, “the Elders have learned of the girl. They believe you’ve claimed her.”
I turned, voice low and lethal.
“I haven’t.”
He didn’t blink. “They demand her blood.”
I faced Aria again.
Her future…
was now drenched in war.
“If they touch her…” My voice trembled with a rage I barely contained. “I will rip the Kingdom apart.”
My knight bowed.
He knew the truth:
The girl who drowned lived.
The girl who lived was mine.
And the night I save her will be the night I damn us both.
- Writer
