Chapter 8

My consciousness returned little by little. The metallic taste persisted in my mouth, but the strangest thing was the lack of pain. I didn’t feel any!

How could this be possible?

The thought hit me like a punch to the stomach.

Oh, hell... no... this cannot be!

Some vampire had shared their blood with me, which was why I was healed. Now, I would be linked to someone's mind—they would feel all my emotions, and on top of that, they would have a built-in GPS. They would be able to find me anywhere. "Hell!"

Investigating every detail of the strange room, I realized I was lying on a King-size bed—in my opinion, far too large; a person could get lost under the sheets in a bed like that. Turning on the small lamp on the nightstand, I analyzed the decor and concluded that it seemed somber.

Dark tones interspersed with a few light ones were the only things preventing it from looking frightening. Heavy curtains adorned the windows, along with a large rug and two simple armchairs. I didn't see many decorative items scattered around, but my admiration grew when I spotted a large bookshelf crammed full of books on every side. The owner was already starting to earn my regard.

I quickly stood up and checked that I was still wearing my clothes. While deep in thought, I spotted two identical closed doors on the wall opposite the bed. I pointed between them and chanted "eeny, meeny, miny, moe" before opening the chosen door.

I stood for a moment, gazing at the rows of thick leather garments hanging inside the wardrobe. Jeans and dark T-shirts lined the hangers, and neat rows of black combat boots rested on the shelves below. "Vampires really didn't like white."

Taking a deep breath, I turned to the other door I’d been hoping to find, trying not to dwell on the room’s owner and simply savour the fleeting sense of freedom.

I flipped on the light, revealing a shower, a toilet and a sink. I rushed straight to the mirror and examined my face, confirming my suspicion: all my wounds had faded, leaving only faint red marks on my pale skin. I brushed a thumb over my previously split lip — not a trace of the injury remained.

"Damn, damn, damn!" I gritted my teeth and groaned. I’d thought seeking asylum would set me free, yet now someone was bound to me, twenty-four hours a day.

"I know I sound ungrateful. Whoever gave me their blood most likely saved my life, but who would want a stranger constantly on their tail?" I sighed and turned on the faucet, splashing water on my face.

I had so many questions to answer once I left this room. First: Where was I? Second: Whose room was this? Third...

My eyes widened as footsteps drew rapidly closer. The steps were slow, yet heavy, announcing someone’s arrival. A shiver ran down my spine when a shadow loomed at the bathroom entrance.

He lingered deliberately in the dimness, watching me in silence for several seconds.

One more step and the light would hit his face — why won’t he come forward?

I bit my lip, held my breath and gripped the edge of the sink tightly.

"When you feel ready, come out. I’ll wait for you outside."

The stranger left just as quietly as he’d appeared. His voice sounded vaguely familiar, cold and commanding. I breathed heavily, trying to calm the rising dread. He was towering, with broad shoulders and an imposing bearing.

I glanced back at my reflection and noticed my eyes had turned grey; my vampire side was always awake and alert. I dried my face with a towel beside the shower and ran my fingers through my messy hair to tidy myself up a little. A proper shower would have to wait.

I stepped cautiously out of the bathroom and peered down the hallway. The man was now fully visible, leaning against the opposite wall with his feet crossed and arms folded over his chest, seemingly dozing.

His eyes were closed, his expression calm, though his sharp, angular features gave him an inherently dominant and intimidating air. His long black hair fell in layered strands to his shoulders, styled in a deliberately messy way that lent him a wild charm, paired with a light layer of stubble on his jaw.

I studied his face for a long moment, my gaze lingering on his full lower lip, and I sighed for no clear reason. I licked my own lips, and a sudden chill swept over me. My body went rigid when I lifted my head and met a pair of piercing, deadly green eyes.

"Follow me!"

With just one sharp command, he turned his back and walked ahead.

"Where are we going?" I hurried after him, unable to help noticing his muscular build. The black shirt and tight leather pants left little to the imagination. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I scolded myself inwardly as my eyes drifted to his hips. I cleared my throat and looked away quickly. "Could you at least tell me where I am?"

"You are in the house where you came to seek asylum." He kept walking without glancing back, taking the stairs two at a time before stopping in front of a set of double doors.

"That’s not enough for me." I spoke carefully, trying to make my point. "I need to know who is now linked to my emotions. I think I have a right to that information." I bit my lip, hoping I did not sound too demanding.

"What happened was necessary. Your injuries were severe."

Before I could argue or say another word, he spun around, pushed open both doors and stepped aside to let me pass. The room beyond was a spacious office fitted with modern facilities, a stark contrast to the antique-style double doors. He fixed his gaze firmly on me.

"Whoever offered their blood did so with no selfish motives. This will not cause you trouble in the future. Now, get in."

"Fine." I sighed in frustration and stepped into the office.

A tall, imposing man stood behind the desk. With short black hair, blue eyes and formal attire, he was undoubtedly the Clan Master. His powerful aura commanded respect, mixed with a hint of fear. Even as he smiled at me, my heart began to race, and unease washed over me once again out of nowhere. I froze on the spot.