BLOOD RAGE

Freya's POV:

The mansion felt alive in a way that made my heart pound as the whispers of the other slaves who were lucky enough not to be pets filled every corner of the mansion. 

Screeches and screams from pets tore through the thick walls of the mansion in a way that left a chill. I would have been in a similar situation if Lucien had not saved me from Laura. 

I still had a feeling that there was more to the story than he was letting on, but I pushed that thought away and focused on the important task at hand. 

The uneven echo of my own footsteps as I carried the bottles of wine Lucien had requested were drowned by the screams. 

Every shadow seemed to stretch toward me as I passed the tunnel and that made panic twist my insides as I constantly let out a breath of relief when it turned out to be a fellow slave. 

I might have Lucien's protection, but I didn't think these feral and bloodthirsty vampires would care about that. The thought of getting drained brought memories of the few days I spent in my former master's house and I shuddered. 

My hands shook around the glass bottles as I finally reached the penthouse. The air was still quite heavy but it felt safer than being on any other floor.

So far, it seemed like only vampires were in the buildings, and they were on full rampage. 

I stepped inside the apartment that seemed just as quiet as it had been when I left it a few minutes ago except for the jazz music playing in the background. 

I let out a breath, bracing myself for the tension that had gripped me since Lucien had touched my hair earlier. 

That brief, innocent contact had ignited something I didn’t understand, and now I wasn’t sure I could handle what I might find.

And then I saw him.

Slumped against the cold floor, his skin paler than I had ever seen, muscles tense, his chest heaving with ragged gasps. His red eyes flicked wildly, fangs glinting as he growled, each breath ragged with thirst and pain.

My eyes went wide in shock, trying to figure out what was happening. Without thinking twice, I ran towards him, not caring about how dangerous he looked as I raised his head up. 

“Lucien,” I barely managed to whisper as I tapped his cold cheek.

“Stay… please, stay alive,” I said with urgency, tears clouding my eyes for a reason that I couldn't explain.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been acting as my protector ever since my father threw me into this world. I couldn't be so sure, but that wasn't what was important right now. 

He didn’t respond at first, shaking and groaning as the fever burned through him. Beads of sweat formed over his head, which was strange for someone so hot.

“Freya… leave,” he rasped, voice rough, the command weak but insistent.

I was indeed surprised that he remembered my name, but I was more confused about why he wanted me to leave when he was in this type of state. 

Before I could react, his hand shot out and his fingers curled around my neck. It was a movement that I didn't see coming, and I froze in place, not daring to move. 

His fang brushed my neck as shivers raced down my spine, filled with terror and something else twisting inside me. 

As if nothing had happened, Lucien pushed away, staggering toward his room with one of the wine bottles that I had placed on the floor clutched in his hand.

For some reason, it hurt to watch him in such a state but there was nothing I could do about it, although I was desperate to help. 

Having no time to process my thoughts, my hand gripped his arm, stopping him. Why did I? I had no idea and Lucien equally seemed as confused as I was.

There had to be a reason I had stopped him from going and I knew it deep down even though I didn't want to admit it.

I let out a deep breath and said what was rooted deeply in my mind, “Drink from me.”

My heart hammered against my chest as it stared at Lucien, waiting for him to grab onto the opportunity. 

“If you need it… drink,” I said with a bit more certainty now. 

His eyes flickered with hesitation, and he let out a low and dangerous growl.

“Don’t tempt me. Not today,” he warned as he tried to pull his hand away.

He seemed so weak that he couldn't get away from a human like me, so I pulled him closer, trembling as I made another attempt to persuade him.

“I might die if you die.”

His expression darkened as if my words had actually gotten to him. Slowly, he turned fully towards me and knelt, looking all weak.

It made me wonder how many years of torture he had suffered just like this, but before I could dwell so much on it. He sunk his fangs into me.

My inner thigh.

A gasp escaped my lips as I waited for the usual pain to take over my body, but it never did. Even in his feral moment, he made sure to spare me glances while drinking softly from me.

I had no idea if I was starting to become twisted, but instead of pain, a shock of ecstasy tore through me as black dots danced in my vision.

I was supposed to tell him to stop now that I was on the verge of passing out. However, I loved it, and before I even realised it, my fingers tangled in his dark hair as a moan escaped my lips.

I was far too gone to think about how embarrassing it was as I pushed my thigh further towards him. 

Finally, his tongue flicked just like that other day across my skin, then he pulled back, panting. 

He staggered a few steps, leaning against the wall to steady himself. His skin had more colour to it, and he looked less sickly now, but that wasn't what caught my attention. It was the bulge he had and seemed desperate to hide. 

Somewhere across the room, I sensed movement and when I whipped my head, it was him.  

Duncan. 

His eyes widened and his lips parted in shock, which meant he had witnessed it all, but for some reason, I didn't feel shame but a bit of guilt. 

I felt my heartbeat stutter and that was it.

I didn’t realize it yet, but the night had changed everything.