Chapter two: first sparks

His touch still burned on my skin when I woke up the next morning.

I walked into the dining room with my heart in my throat. Sunlight poured through tall windows, but it did nothing to warm the chill in the air. Victor sat at the head of the long table like a king. Vincent was already there, coffee in hand, looking like he had not slept either.

"You look tired, Ella," Victor said smoothly. "Did you not rest well?"

I sat down slowly, feeling both their eyes on me. "Not really. The house makes a lot of noise at night."

Vincent set his cup down harder than necessary. "Maybe you should stay in your room like I told you."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem," Vincent answered quickly, but his jaw stayed tight. "Just giving our new guest some advice."

I looked straight at him. "Advice or orders? Because last night felt a lot like the second one."

Vincent met my stare. The heat in his eyes made my stomach flip. "Whatever keeps you safe."

Victor cleared his throat. "Ella, I know this transition is difficult. Your mother and I did not have much time together before she... left us. But you are family now. We take care of our own."

"Family," I repeated softly. The word felt wrong. "Did she ever talk about me to you?"

Victor paused. "She said you were strong. Independent. She wanted you to have a better life than she did."

Tears stung my eyes but I blinked them back. "Then why do I feel like I walked into a prison instead of a home?"

Vincent shifted in his seat. "Because this place is not what it seems. The sooner you accept that, the better."

I turned to him. "And what exactly is it? Because last night I heard growling. Real growling. And you looked... different."

Silence fell over the table. Victor stared at his son. Vincent stared at me like he wanted to shake me or kiss me. I could not tell which.

"Imagination runs wild at night," Victor said calmly. "Especially after trauma. Vincent, show her around the house today. Help her feel settled."

"I have work," Vincent muttered.

"Do it anyway," Victor replied, voice hardening.

Vincent looked like he wanted to argue but nodded once. Breakfast ended in heavy silence. When Victor left the room, Vincent stood up fast.

"Come on," he said. "Let me show you the place so I can get back to my actual life."

I followed him down the hallway. "You do not have to babysit me. I can explore on my own."

"No," he said sharply. "You cannot."

"Why not?"

He stopped walking and faced me. "Because there are parts of this house you do not need to see. Questions you do not need to ask. People like you get hurt when they dig too deep."

"People like me?" I stepped closer, anger rising. "What the hell does that mean? You do not even know me."

Vincent ran a hand through his hair. "I know enough. I know you smell like vanilla and grief. I know your heart beats faster every time I get close. And I know you should leave this place before it is too late."

My breath caught. "You are crazy. We met yesterday."

"Does not change the truth." His voice dropped lower. "Stay away from me, Ella. For both our sakes."

But even as he said it, he did not move away. We stood there in the hallway, inches apart, breathing the same air. I could see the pulse beating in his neck. Fast. Like mine.

"I should go explore alone," I whispered, but my feet would not move.

Vincent laughed bitterly. "Yeah. You should."

I turned and walked away before I did something stupid like kiss him. I wandered through the mansion for almost an hour, opening doors, trying to understand this new world. Then I found a heavy oak door slightly ajar. I pushed it open.

It was a study. Dark wood, bookshelves, a massive desk. Vincent stood behind it, phone pressed to his ear, pacing like a caged animal.

"Push the borders back," he growled into the phone. "I do not care what the other packs say. If they cross the line again, we eliminate the threat. No mercy this time."

I froze in the doorway. Packs? Eliminate?

Vincent turned and saw me. His eyes widened. "I have to go." He ended the call and slammed the phone down. "What are you doing in here?"

"I was just looking around. I did not mean to—"

He crossed the room in three long steps and reached past me to shut the door. His arm brushed mine and I shivered. The click of the lock sounded final.

"You should not be here," he said, voice rough and low. Almost hungry.

"Then why does it feel like I am exactly where I need to be?" I whispered.

Vincent backed me against the door. One hand pressed flat beside my head. "You have no idea what you are playing with."

"Tell me," I challenged. "Tell me what is really going on. Why did you say packs? Why do you look at me like you want to devour me and run away at the same time?"

He leaned in closer. His breath warmed my lips. "Because if I give in, everything falls apart. You. Me. This whole empire."

My hands came up to rest on his chest. I felt his heart hammering under my palm. "I am not fragile, Vincent. Whatever this is, I can handle it."

He laughed softly, but it sounded pained. "You think so? You do not even know what I am."

"Then show me," I breathed.

For one electric second, his mouth hovered over mine. I could almost taste him. Then he pulled back with a groan, turning away and gripping the edge of his desk hard enough to make the wood creak.

"Get out, Ella. Now."

"No." I stepped toward him. "Not until you explain why I cannot stop thinking about you. Why I feel this pull every time you are near."

Vincent spun around. His eyes looked brighter again. That strange golden glow. "Because we are broken in ways you cannot understand. Our families. Our blood. It is all cursed."

"What does that even mean?"

He grabbed my shoulders, not hard but desperate. "It means if I touch you the way I want to, people will die. Maybe even you."

My heart raced so fast I felt dizzy. "Then why do I still want you to touch me?"

Vincent stared at me like I had just destroyed him. His thumbs brushed my arms. His grip tightened. "You should not say things like that."

"But it is true," I admitted, voice shaking. "Last night. This morning. Right now. I feel more alive standing here arguing with you than I have since Mom died."

He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, the hunger was back. "Ella..."

The way he said my name sent heat straight through me. I rose up on my toes. He met me halfway. Our lips crashed together in a kiss that felt like drowning and breathing at the same time. Hard. Desperate. His hands slid into my hair as he pulled me closer.

I moaned softly against his mouth. He answered with a deep growl that vibrated through his chest. For a perfect moment, nothing else existed.

Then he broke away suddenly, breathing hard. "We cannot do this."

"Why?" I reached for him again but he stepped back.

"Because you are my stepsister. Because there are things about my family. About your mother. Secrets that could destroy everything."

My head spun. "What secrets?"

Vincent shook his head. "Go. Please. Before I stop caring about the consequences."

I stood there, lips tingling, body aching. "I am not going anywhere until you tell me the truth."

He looked at me with raw pain in his eyes. "The truth might kill you."

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from somewhere deep in the mansion. Glass breaking. Then shouting.

Vincent's whole body went tense. "Stay here," he ordered.

But I followed him anyway as he rushed out of the study. My heart pounded with fear and something else. Something addictive.

Whatever was coming, I knew one thing for sure.

I was already in too deep with Vincent.

And I did not want to be saved.