The Hunger and the Mark

 

Inside Le Sang Vert the music throbbed—low, heavy, sensual. Rio felt it in his chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat. The rhythm wasn’t just sound anymore... It was a sensation. Like the blood calling to him from every corner of this strange, decadent hell.

 

Odessa circled him slowly, her presence both regal and terrifying. Her rich brown skin drank in the flickering candlelight, and her thick curls framed her face like a dark, obsidian crown. She moved with the grace of a predator who knew the room belonged to her.

 

“Still pretending you don’t feel it?” she murmured, her voice velvet over steel.

 

Gold hoops glinted at her ears. Her cold fingers brushed his jaw, his shoulder, then trailed down his arm. The touch burned—not with fire, but with something worse. Recognition.

 

“You’ve been fighting it,” she said again, more to herself this time. “I can smell the shame on you.”

 

Rio swallowed hard. “What did you do to me?”

 

She laughed, low and husky. “You know what sugar. You just don’t want to say it out loud.”

 

She stopped in front of him, lifting a glass. The liquid inside was dark and viscous, catching the light like rubies.

 

“Say it,” she whispered.

 

His stomach churned. The scent alone made his teeth ache, his throat burn. Days had passed since anything normal tasted right. Even water felt wrong in his mouth. Sleep was shallow. Wounds closed within minutes. He hadn’t wanted to face the truth, but the mirror had already stopped reflecting him. The hunger had started whispering.

 

“You turned me,” he said hoarsely. “You made me a—”

 

The word stuck.

 

“A vampire,” Odessa said, smiling like a cat with a canary on its tongue.

 

“No,” he rasped. “I’m not—I can’t—”

 

“Human?” she offered. “You were. Once.”

 

She leaned in close, so close he could see faint blue veins beneath her flawless skin. “Now you’re something else. Stronger. Faster. Hungrier. But still clinging to your little mortal rules.”

 

“Don’t,” he warned, voice trembling. “Don’t talk about my life.”

 

But she did. Her tone softened. “LeAnn. Sophie. Beautiful. Precious. Gone.”

 

His fists clenched, trembling. “Shut your mouth.”

 

“Would they even recognize you now?” she whispered. “This pale, starving thing trying to walk in their ghost steps?”

 

A commotion broke behind them. Whispers. Growls.

 

Rio turned just as a scarred man with yellowing eyes pointed toward him. “That’s him. The new blood. He’s unclaimed.”

 

Odessa’s smile vanished. “Damn it,” she muttered.

 

Her grip locked around Rio’s arm too strong, too fast.

 

“What the hell is happening?” he demanded.

 

“You’re a stray,” she said. “No mark. No protection. That means anyone in here can challenge for you.”

 

“Challenge?” he echoed, stunned. “For what?”

 

“For your blood. Or your life.”

 

The crowd parted. The scarred vampire approached, cracking his neck as he walked. Fangs glinted in the low light.

 

“You didn’t mark him, Odessa,” the man sneered. “That makes him fair game.”

 

She stepped in front of Rio, a protective wall of silk and fury. “Back off, Jules. He’s mine.”

 

“You know the rules,” Jules replied. “Mark him or lose him.”

 

Odessa glanced back at Rio, her golden eyes unreadable. “This is your shot, cher. I claim you, and they walk away. But that ties you to me. My clan. My world.”

 

Rio’s heart pounded. “And if I don’t?”

 

“Then you fight him.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “But you’re not ready.”

 

Jules cracked his knuckles. “Tick-tock.”

 

The room pulsed with bloodlust. Dozens of eyes locked on Rio, waiting to see if he’d be prey or predator.

 

Odessa leaned in again, her voice ice and fire. “Say yes, Rio. Let me save you.”

 

Everything stilled.

 

Rio’s chest rose and fell like a storm-swollen tide. Was he even breathing anymore?

 

He saw Sophie’s crooked smile. LeAnn’s bare feet on the deck. The rush of water. The life vests that he forgot that day. The darkness that came after.

 

He’d survived that night.

 

He’d survive this one.

 

But not on someone else’s terms.

 

“No.”

 

Odessa blinked. “No?”

 

He yanked his arm free. “I didn’t survive all that just to become someone’s pet.”

 

Gasps. Whispers. A few gleeful chuckles.

 

Jules grinned, wide and wicked. “Then you’re mine.”

 

“Not yet,” Rio said coldly. “You said I’m unclaimed. That makes me fair game. But doesn’t that also mean I can challenge?”

 

The room fell silent. Even the music seemed to pause.

 

Jules squinted. “You’re new. You’ll get shredded.”

 

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be something if I didn’t?”

 

Odessa tilted her head. That small, knowing smile returned. “Clever boy.”

 

The vampires around them murmured—part amused, part intrigued.

 

Jules snorted. “Fine. You want a challenge? You got it.”

 

He lunged.

 

The world snapped.

 

Rio barely saw the first blow before it landed. Jules’s fist crashed into his ribs, sending him skidding into a table. Glass exploded, blood-red liquid spraying across stone.

 

Pain lanced through him—but then, just as quickly, it faded. Muscle and bone knit back together beneath his skin.

 

He rose.

 

Faster than thought.

 

Jules came at him again, but this time, Rio was ready. He ducked low, claws—when had he grown claws?—slashing up across Jules’s chest. Four deep, wet lines bloomed instantly.

 

The crowd roared. Not for Jules. For the spectacle.

 

Jules snarled and tackled him. They tumbled across the floor in a blur of limbs and teeth. Jules was older. Stronger. But Rio was driven by something deeper. Grief. Rage. Hunger.

 

He wouldn’t be prey. Not again.

 

With a roar, Rio pinned Jules to the stone floor. His fangs—his damn fangs—pierced the man’s throat.

 

Hot blood surged into his mouth, rich and electric. It tasted like thunder. Like lightning. Like power.

 

When it was over, Jules twitched once and went still.

 

A long, stunned silence.

 

Then—applause. Mocking. Frenzied. A celebration of violence.

 

Odessa stepped forward, all slow elegance, and looked down at him like he was a surprise she hadn’t expected to enjoy.

 

“Well,” she said, amused. “Looks like you just claimed yourself, sugar.”

 

But the eyes in the room didn’t look away. Not yet. Not ever.

 

They were predators. And now, they saw him as one of their own.

 

Odessa leaned down beside him, lips near his ear. “You don’t know what you’ve started, cher,” she whispered. “But I like it.”

 

And in the distance—beneath the thunder of blood and broken rules—Rio heard it again.

 

Not a voice behind him this time.

 

But inside.

 

The blood is awake.

 

And it wasn’t going back to sleep.