4. First Performance Edric

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

I stood backstage at Luna Noir, the low thrum of the crowd vibrating up through the floor and into my spine. Even the air felt alive, humming with anticipation. The music leaked faintly from the speakers overhead, a dark, pulsing rhythm that seemed to sync with my heartbeat. My first night performing. My first night stepping into whatever world Leon had dragged me into.

I smoothed my hands down the front of my outfit for the hundredth time. The sleek black shirt hugged my torso exactly the way Leon demanded, perfectly, no wrinkles, no imperfections. The satin pants gleamed under the backstage lights and clung to my legs in a way that made me blush the first time I put them on. Now they were a second skin.

A reminder that I was being watched. Owned.

“You belong to me. You obey. You perform. And you do not touch the patrons.”

Leon’s voice echoed in my head, low, unyielding, impossible to ignore.

I swallowed and forced a steady breath.

I can do this. I have to.

Aria’s face flashed in my mind: pale, exhausted, but smiling every time I walked into her hospital room and now, in the only room in our small home. Her fingers twined in mine, her voice weak but bright.

“Don’t worry, Ed… I’m okay.”

She wasn’t okay. Leukemia was stealing her piece by piece. The bills were drowning us both. And tonight, for the first time in my life, I had a chance to fight back. Just one night’s income here could cover her treatment for weeks.

I couldn’t screw this up.

The lights dimmed. A hush fell over the crowd. My pulse hammered so hard that I felt it in my throat.

I stepped onto the stage.

And froze.

The audience wasn’t just big… it was monstrous. Rows of people staring up at me. I saw eyes with unnatural gleams, movements too smooth, too sharp, fangs glinting under the blacklight. I didn't know that the patrons here had that fetish.

My stomach flipped.

But the music started, a deep, sultry beat that crawled under my skin and my body reacted before my fear could. Instinct. Muscle memory. Fire.

I moved.

Hips swaying, arms cutting through the air, my chest rolling with the rhythm. I felt the music seep into my bones, taking over. My fear melted into heat, control, power. The same strange energy from my audition ignited inside me, like dancing wasn’t something I learned, but something I was.

Somewhere in the shadows above, I felt him.

Leon.

Watching.

His gaze slid over me like a physical touch, heavy, hot and possessive. I didn’t have to see him to know his eyes were glowing. My skin tingled wherever I imagined his gaze landing, and that terrified me almost as much as it thrilled me.

The crowd roared, money clinking against the stage as tips rained down. Hands reached out, fingers brushing too close. I dodged gracefully, remembering Leon’s warning.

No one touches you.

But then a hand closed around my hip.

I froze mid-movement.

A cold shiver raced down my spine as I turned and saw red-glinting eyes and exposed fangs. A vampire. His grip tightened, pulling me closer. I loved that this man chose to be a vampire. Where did they buy these teeth and lenses that looked so real?

My breath stuttered.

Before I could speak, a growl rolled through the club, deep, animalistic, vibrating through the walls, through me.

Leon moved out of the shadows like smoke and fury given form, eyes blazing molten gold.

In the space of a heartbeat, he was between us.

“You touch him,” Leon snarled, voice low and lethal, “you die.”

The man recoiled instantly, bowing his head in submission before disappearing into the darkness.

My knees almost buckled. Not just from fear, from the intensity of Leon’s power. The way he stood there, chest rising and falling. He was like a wolf, snarling so loud that I felt it inside my ribs.

Then his gaze snapped to me.

Everything inside me tightened.

But I kept dancing. I had to. For Aria. For my survival. For… whatever this thing was forming between Leon and me.

The music swelled, and I gave everything I had; every turn, every arch of my spine, every breath. The stage was a furnace, and I was burning alive.

Through it all, Leon never looked away.

When the music cut off, the room erupted. Cheers. Applause. Money covering the stage like glittering rain. I bent down to gather it, my hands shaking so hard that I nearly dropped it.

This was enough to cover Aria’s meds. Maybe even her next treatment. Relief washed over me so fast my eyes stung.

“Thank you… thank you,” I whispered under my breath, clutching the paper bag to my chest.

A shadow fell over me.

I looked up.

Leon.

Up close, he was almost too much, too tall, too intense, too controlled. His eyes swept over me from head to toe, slow and deliberate, making my throat go dry.

“You performed well,” he said, voice deep and unreadable. “Better than I expected.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Th-thank you, sir.”

He stepped closer. Close enough that I felt the heat of his body. The air crackled, the same dangerous tension as before.

“You are mine while you are here,” Leon murmured, voice dipping into something darker. “No one touches you.”

My breath hitched. 

“Yes, sir.”

His lips curved, almost a smile, almost a warning. Then he turned and faded back into the shadows, leaving me trembling in his wake.

Outside, the cool night air hit my face like salvation. I gripped the bag tight against my chest, heart racing.

This money… would save Aria. For the first time in months, I felt hope. It was sharp, bright, and overwhelming. But mixed with it was something else.

The memory of Leon stepping between me and danger.

His eyes on me.

That growl.

That claim.

For the first time, I wasn’t just frightened.

I was alive. Thriving. Changing.

And somehow, the most terrifying realization of all was this:

This was only the beginning and I loved it.