Born by the Vampire King

The city felt different tonight.

Like it was holding its breath.

I tightened my coat around me as I hurried down the alley behind my apartment—the shortcut I always took, even though I hated how silent it got. No footsteps. No cars. Just the sound of wind and the distant hum of neon signs flickering to life.

Then everything stopped.

The wind, even the noise from the street behind me—like the world had been muted.

I slowed. I wasn’t alone. I didn’t hear him. I felt him. Like the air itself thickened, coiling around my body with invisible fingers. My breath caught as I turned sharply, heart thudding.

He stood there. Not five feet away.

A man—or something close enough to one that my mind didn’t register the difference fast enough. Tall. Cold. Drenched in shadows like he belonged to them. His shirt was cut sharp and dark, but it was his eyes that rooted me. Crimson. Burning. Unblinking.

Each step towards me felt like walking into a death knell. My feet pinned to the ground.

“What… do you want?” My voice barely made it past my lips. I should’ve screamed. Should’ve run. But my body refused.

He was just in front of me, and his smile? It wasn't kind. It was strange. The faintest glint beneath his upper lip—two elongated canines, gleaming white and deadly.

“You,” he said simply. His voice was low—like a purr laced with power. “From the moment you stepped into this alley… you were mine.”

I swallowed hard, but it didn’t help the dryness in my throat. “You’re insane!”

He chuckled and I felt it, deep in my spine. “You’ll learn the truth soon enough, little mortal.” He slowly ran his hands through my hair. “But don’t worry. I’ll make it feel like heaven while I drag you through hell.”

And then his hand moved.

He gripped my waist at an impossible speed, the other catching my wrist before I could stumble back. His grip was cool but firm, grounding and terrifying all at once. I could smell him—something rich and old, like earth and storm and something faintly metallic.

My knees threatened to give way.

“Let me go,” I whispered, more breath than voice.

His lips grazed the shell of my ear and went down to my neck. He sniffed in my scent but his satisfactory breath signaled more pleasure than ordinarily sniffing in my cologne. His grip on my waist tightened. Heat exploded in my chest, traveling low and fast. My pulse betrayed me, thundering like a war drum against his chest as he pressed in closer.

“If I let you go… would you really run?” He whispered, nuzzling against my throat, inhaling slowly. “Ah, Your scent... intoxicating.”

I hated that he was right. There was something about him—different from a normal man. His touch, his breath, they left me breathless. My knees felt weak and I tried to fight against the unbridled desire that made me crave his touch to go beneath my clothes.

“Who are you?” I breathed.

He pulled back just enough for our eyes to meet, his face was overtaken by a frightening unreadable expression. “I am the one your kind has feared for centuries. The last of the pureblood kings. And you, sweet girl…” His thumb brushed along my jaw with a tenderness that contradicted the feral gleam in his eyes.

“…are my fated bride.”

Before I could speak, his mouth captured mine—hungry, claiming, devouring—and I was lost. He held my waist with a possessive grip.

His tongue grazed my teeth and it was the most pleasurable feeling I've had in years. But amidst the pleasure from his kiss was a lingering guilt. I knew I should have put in some effort to get him off me but my body betrayed me. My lips were completely taken in his mouth and my eyes were closed, now wishing he would never let go.

I began to tremble, my legs couldn't hold for much longer; but it wasn't from fear anymore.

He had a remarkable control over me despite the hunger for me in his eyes. Every touch, every kiss—was measured like he had practiced before coming.

We kissed for minutes and my lust kept growing with each fading second. Why did I want him so bad? Why did it feel like fate?

Then I felt something cold drop on my skin. We broke apart and looked up. He looked back at my face with a melting grin. “I knew tonight was the perfect night.”

He pulled me into him and claimed my lips again. The rain drizzled a little heavier and he pushed me against the alley wall, shielding me from the cold rain.

His hands moved to my hips, then slowly to my jaw, tilting my head. He kissed along my throat, and I felt the unmistakable brush of fangs—but he quickly withdrew himself like there was something he was avoiding to do—just yet.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured against my skin.

“I don't know who you are.” She said in a breath broken by gasps.

“Arghhh!” He groaned, the sound of my voice certainly stirred something deep within him. He withdrew from me, our eyes met in silent tension.

“I am Kael, Lord of the Midnight Court. And you're my fated bride. I waited centuries for this day and I knew it was time the first day you stepped into this alley.”

He brushed my neck again—fangs closer now—and I felt a faint sting but there was no bite.

“Say you want this,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

I was shocked at my nod to his demand. But I knew it was not just from desire but from curiosity and craving.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” I said, breathless.

“It’s the bond. You were born with my mark. Your body remembers me, even if your mind doesn’t yet.”

The moment his fangs pierced my skin, the world shifted. It didn’t hurt—not the way I expected. There was a sting, sharp and sudden, but it melted into something else almost instantly. Heat. Pleasure. A rush so intense it stole the breath from my lungs. My pulse thundered beneath his lips, and with every pull of my blood, something inside me unravelled. I felt the bond.

Something ancient and electric sparked between us—twisting through my veins, wrapping around my heart, branding me from the inside out. His mouth was still at my throat, but I could feel him everywhere. Like I had become a part of him, and he of me.

My knees gave out. I was weightless, floating—and then I was in his arms.

He lifted me like I weighed nothing, holding me close against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat—or maybe it was mine, confused and tangled with his. His lips left my skin, but the mark throbbed.

The world blurred around us as he stepped into the shadows, the night folding in like a cloak. Wind rushed past my ears, but his arms stayed firm, unshakable. When the darkness parted, we were no longer in the alley. We stood in a vast chamber lit by flickering torches, stone walls etched with symbols that pulsed faintly with power. Without a word, he carried me across the room, his gaze never leaving mine, and with a reverence that made my breath hitch, he laid me gently on the bed.

I shifted up toward the head of the bed, my hair fanning out across the pillow as I watched him slowly unbutton his shirt, each movement deliberate, intoxicating. He slid the sleeves down his arms and my eyes were fixed on the elegant tattoos that sat pretty on his chest. I was about to ask about the tattoo’s significance but in a split second my attention drifted to the trouser that was already down his feet. He wore no undershort and his huge member was dangling between his legs.

He tossed the trouser aside and my breath hitched at the sharp hungry gaze he dropped on my body. My pulse raced faster and the heat between my legs increased. I knew I was incredibly wet down there and regardless of his size, he wouldn't need to break a sweat to penetrate me.

I spread my legs in anticipation for the huge member in front of me while he walked to the bed at a slow seductive pace that blew my mind. I swivelled my hips on the bed, moaning, losing the control I had long held. He came on the bed and spread my legs even wider, guiding his head up my ears.

“Won't you take off your clothes for your groom?” He whispered sultrily to my ears, he gave it a light bite that made me gasp ecstatically.

His hands slowly went into my blouse and he found my breasts. We both groaned as he squeezed my hard nipples. One hand helped his weight against the bed and the other kneaded my breast. He squeezed it like it was a squishy toy and I moaned in ecstasy. I had never felt like that with any other man—we were surely made for each other.

Then he stopped kneading and pulled his hands out of my blouse. I opened my eyes and he was already at my skirt. He pulled it off my waist and I made it easier for him by raising my hips. He pulled off my panties and tossed it to the side, his gaze on mine the whole time. His hands went under my blouse again. One squeeze on my breast and he began pulling off the blouse.

Then he scanned me from scalp to bottom. The faint bite on his lips was a clear sign he was pleased with my looks. He ran his fingers up my thigh to my c*nt. My mouth widened, my eyes closed and I threw my head backwards.

The next thing I felt on my c*nt was the tip of something huge and smooth gliding against my slimy p**sy lip. My brows almost touched and my mouth let out more breathless moans. I raised my legs and pulled his neck closer to me. He gripped my hair and claimed my lips in the best rude kiss.

Then he let go and focused down between my legs. My legs shuddered as he put in his member only as far as his tip was. I screamed and gasped and clutched my legs around him. I wasn't going to let go—not anytime soon.

His hands on either side of my head carried his weight. Every bit of him penetrating slowly, smoothly and effortlessly sent thrills through my soul. He went deeper in an unrushed pace that made time blur, every second he stretched me made me feel hunted and worshipped all at once, like prey chosen by its king. At that moment, I knew nothing would ever be the same again.