Chapter 4

Dante

This was the first time I’d really seen her this close, and she was already asking me this… something so unthinkable. She’d been Rosa’s friend for a while, sure, but she had never stayed this long in my house, never invaded my space like this. Something wasn’t right.

My hand tightened around her neck, my thumb brushing over the thrum of her pulse. Her eyes widened, lips parting, but she didn’t push me away. That only made me angrier.

“Who the hell are you? Who sent you! What are you! Are you a hunter?” I growled, my voice low, dangerous.

Her face was covered in confusion. Her lips parted like she had something to say, but before she could answer, Rosa’s voice rang from the hallway once again.

“Dad, I’m home!”

The sound jolted through me. My jaw clenched. Damn it. I had no choice. I tucked myself back into my pants quickly, shoving Ivy into my drawer, pressing both of us into the tight space, our bodies tangled with the piles of clothes. Her breath was hot against my chest, my arm caging her in place.

Rosa’s footsteps echoed across the floorboards, moving closer, closer.

“Dad? Where are you?” she called again.

Ivy’s lips parted, like she wanted to speak, but I slapped my palm gently but firmly over her mouth, holding her still. My chest rose and fell against hers, our closeness unbearable, suffocating.

Then—my phone beeped.

My hand stilled, every muscle in my body tightening. The phone was with me, stuffed in my pocket. Ivy’s eyes flickered to the sound, then back at me, wide, panicked.

Rosa’s voice carried again, closer this time. “I think I heard something. Why’s no one answering? Ivy?”

She was searching, her footsteps shifting across the floorboards like she was about to push open the wrong door. My grip around Ivy’s waist tightened. Her body pressed harder against mine, our hearts thudding against each other. I could smell her fear, her sweat.

Then another voice interrupted—male, sharp. “Let’s go. We'd be late.”

Rosa’s steps slowed. Silence followed, then the fading sound of retreat. The door shut. The house fell quiet again.

I shoved the drawer open and stumbled out, dragging in a deep breath. Ivy didn’t run. She just stood there, her eyes fixed on me, unshaken.

“You’re not scared? Even after I tried to strangle you to death?” I asked, still catching my breath, my tone half mocking, half serious.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “No. I don’t care what you are. My mind is fixed, and I knew you wouldn't kill me.”

I stiffened. She's really smart. My crimson stone pulsed faintly in her chest, glowing beneath her skin. I could see it, shining, alive inside her. My stomach twisted.

“Even if I’m… a different kind of creature?” I stepped closer, testing her. She backed away a little, her shoulders brushing against the shelf.

I smirked. Her bravery fascinated me. “Stand still. I’m going to take back what you stole from me.” My voice was sharp as I snapped my hand around her neck again, lowering my face toward hers, trying to reclaim the crimson stone with a kiss, the way it had always worked before.

But nothing happened. The stone stayed. My lips brushed hers, heat surging, but the stone didn’t return.

Frustration burned through me. What the hell was this?

The truth is… I’m not human. I haven’t been for centuries. I’m a vampire, cursed and bound to a life I never wanted. Nine hundred and ninety-nine years of walking this earth, trying to claw my way back into humanity. I found a way, a terrible, selfish way. Sleeping with human women, draining their energy. Some lived, some didn’t. But every time, my crimson stone grew stronger, filled with their life. Without it, I’d rot. The crimson stone is my life force, my power, the only thing keeping me alive.

But now… it was inside her.

I studied Ivy’s face. Her lips trembled, but her eyes… her eyes were calm. Relaxed and bold.

“It seems you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” I muttered, stepping closer. My palm pressed against the wall beside her head.

Her voice wavered, but she lifted her chin. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I hissed, leaning close enough that she could feel my breath, “I’m not human.”

Her eyes darted across my face, her back pressing into the books on the shelf. My shadow loomed over her.

“You’re scared?” I asked, my fangs itching to emerge. “You haven’t even seen what I really am.”

She scoffed softly, though her voice shook. “Who says I’m scared?”

I bit my lower lip, my gaze dropping to her chest where her dress slipped slightly. My throat burned with hunger, with desire. What the hell was wrong with me?

“I can see your fear…” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. My fingers lingered, almost tender.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered back. Her words trembled, but they carried weight.

I knew what I had to do.

My claws slid out slowly, sharp and deadly. My fangs followed, piercing through my gums, gleaming under the dim light.

Her eyes widened instantly. Her lips parted, breath hitching, almost like she was about to faint. Tears welled up, glassy and unfallen. Her glasses almost fell from her nose bridge. Her hands gripped the hem of her dress, clutching tight, trembling.

“This isn’t real…” she whispered, shaking her head as I leaned closer, my fangs brushing the curve of her neck.

She shut her eyes tight and screamed.

I froze. A crooked smile tugged at my lips. “See? Who says they aren’t scared.”

Her body quivered, and I drank in her fear. But then, she surprised me again.

“I don’t care what you are,” she whispered, forcing the words out through her shaky breath. Her eyes opened, wide, defiant as she arranged her glasses to see me clearly.. “All I want is for you to break my hymen. Will you do it?”

I blinked, stunned. One bold girl. My lips curled into a slow smirk.

“Even if you end up like the housekeeper?” I asked coldly, my words sharp as a knife. “Even if you die?”

“I don’t care.” Her voice broke, but she stood firm. “I said what I want.”

My laugh was dark, bitter. “Wow.” I tilted my head, studying her, calculating.

If that’s what she wanted, I could use it. It was written in the curse book, rare, but possible. When the crimson stone ends up in a human and refuses to return, the vampire has only one way to retrieve it: to sleep with that human again and again until the stone willingly flows back. The human usually dies in the process, drained, their body giving out under the weight of what they carry.

I needed the stone. She wanted her virginity gone.

It was a win-win.

“Alright then,” I said, my tone low, deliberate. “Let’s do it.”

Her eyes flickered, confusion flashing. “Really?”

The sudden sound of Rosa’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. She had come out of nowhere, standing at the door.

My entire body went rigid. Ivy stiffened beside me.

“Dad?” Rosa’s brows knitted in suspicion as her eyes moved between us. “What are you two doing?”