All Chapters of The Vampire King's Virgin Mistake : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Rosalinda's POV The room tilts suddenly. Not slowly. Not gently. One moment I am holding my daughter. Warm, slippery, alive against my chest and the next her weight is gone. Vanished. She slipped off. I sense someone catch her. My arms try to reach out for her but they feel too weak. Too far away. My whole body feels distant. Heavy. As though belonging to someone else and I am only visiting. The overhead lights glare down, stark and blinding. Casting sharp shadows against the walls. The monitor beside me gives a long unbroken tone that fills the space like a scream trapped in the room. I hear Mina’s voice, raw and trembling but forcing calm. “Time of death… 2:55 pm.” she says No. No. That cannot be right. I am still here. I can still see everything. I see the nurses moving, their scrubs rippling with motion. I hear the cries of my babies, three small furious voices. Each unique. Distinct. I want to go to them but my body is heavy. I can't seem to move. I feel the sheets bei

Grace’s POV Hotel Mia Rosa is perched on the edge of the city like something out of a storybook. Beautiful. Elegant. Imposing. Travel blogs called it a five-star haven for the ultra-wealthy. They were not wrong. Even after months of working here I still pause sometimes. Just to look at it. My first day I felt like an impostor. No degree. No experience. But seven months later and I am one of the most trusted members of the housekeeping staff. Reliable. Quiet. Efficient. Invisible. Just the way I prefer it. Inside the staff locker room the faint smell of detergent and perfume lingers. Lockers slam softly as early-shift workers change into their uniforms, exchanging greetings with those clocking out from the night shift. I change quickly. My hair pulled into a tight bun. My uniform is a simple beige-colored cotton gown. Crisp and neat. Knee-length. Professional. Comes with a halfmoon apron with deep pockets. I pin on my name tag. Grace Montoya. It still feels right even

Max’s POV “Sire… Miss Stratford is alive?” Damon’s words hit me like a freight train straight to the chest. I freeze. My hair is still dripping water onto the marble floor. The towel around my waist suddenly feels too tight, too heavy. The name echoes loudly in the quiet suite. Rose. Alive. How? Impossible. My mind races. Th same thoughts I’ve tortured myself with for five years slamming back in full force. How we never actually saw a body. The woman they cremated in Cusco could have been anyone. The records were rushed, the hospital overwhelmed. But how is this possible? A pureblood pregnancy should have killed her. Sancta or not, human bodies break under royal blood. They always have. Even half-bloods do not survive. And yet… I adjust the towel around my waist. My body is still reacting. Cock straining hard against the fabric just from the memory of her pressed against me. Her body is fuller now, more alluring in ways that make my blood roar. Five years of nothing but i

Chapter 47 Max’s POV Her scent reaches me before she even reaches the door. That tantalizing mix. Wildflowers. Honey. Fresh. Soothing. She knocks softly. Her voice carries through the door “Housekeeping.” I do not respond. She repeats it then I hear the soft click of the lock as she uses the keycard. The faint rattle of her cart wheels on marble. I don’t move from the bedroom doorway. I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes, robe loosely tied pretending to read the same damn document Damon left behind. My eyes haven’t left the page once. Because I’m waiting for her. Grace. Or Rose. Or whoever the hell she is. Doubt has been chewing at me since yesterday. She looks like her. Moves like her. Smells close enough to drive me insane. But she has three children. Nine year olds. The timeline doesn’t fit. A pureblood pregnancy should have killed her. Every logical explanation points to her being dead. Yet the moment she steps into the suite the pull slams into me again. That s

Grace's POV The world drops away the moment his mouth crashes into mine.There’s nothing uncertain about this kiss. No hesitation. No testing. His hand is in my hair. Holding me. Firm. keeping me exactly where he wants me. My hands find him anyway. He pulls me hard against him causing the air to leave me in a rush. Unexpected.A small sound escapes my lips before I can stop it. A soft whimper. A gasp swallowed by his mouth. I don’t care that it escapes. It feels right. Wrong. Everything all at once.He exhales low. Controlled. Vibrating through his chest pressed against mine. Heat ignites, sharp and sudden like fire catching the dry edges of my skin. My fingers twist into the silk of his robe grasping for something solid to hold ontoI should stop. I know I should. But instead I lean closer.Then his mouth leaves mine for a second just enough to breathe. It drags along my jaw and down my neck. My head falls back without thinking. Giving him access. And I want it. I'm not even sure w