3

The hunger was a living thing.

It coiled deep inside me, twisting, gnawing, an insatiable force that refused to be ignored. It wasn’t just a craving—it was a demand. A sharp, raw ache in my throat that burned hotter with every second.

And the worst part?

I knew exactly what I needed.

Blood.

The word alone made my stomach clench in horror.

I gritted my teeth, shoving the thought away. No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

I dug my nails into my arms, pressing hard enough to feel pain, desperate for something to ground me. The wooden floor beneath my bare feet felt too smooth, too polished, every detail of the grain sharp in my heightened senses. I could hear the fire crackling across the room, the faint whisper of wind slipping through the cracks of the old windows.

And beneath it all—

A heartbeat.

Lucian’s.

The steady, unbearably loud rhythm of it thrummed against my skull, like a drumbeat I couldn’t escape.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my hands over my ears. It didn’t help. Nothing helped.

The scent of him was everywhere.

Warm. Dark. Rich.

I felt like I was drowning in it, suffocating under the weight of a hunger I didn’t understand. My breath came faster, sharp gasps that weren’t real—because I didn’t need to breathe anymore, did I?

Oh, God.

I wasn’t human.

The thought sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through me.

I forced my eyes open, my gaze snapping to Lucian.

He hadn’t moved.

He still stood a few feet away, watching me with that same unreadable expression.

But now—now that I was fully aware—I noticed the way his muscles had tensed, the way his shoulders were rigid, his hands curled loosely at his sides.

He wasn’t just watching me.

He was waiting.

For what?

For me to snap?

For me to launch myself at him like some kind of rabid animal?

I swallowed, but the ache in my throat only worsened.

“I need—” My voice cracked. I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.

Lucian’s head tilted slightly. “I know.”

My fingers dug into my arms, nails biting into my skin. “No, you don’t. I—” My breath shuddered. “I feel like I’m dying.”

He let out a slow, measured sigh. “You’re not dying.”

I wanted to believe him. But how could I, when everything inside me screamed that I was losing control?

I shook my head violently. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I can’t be this.”

Lucian took a slow step forward. Not too close. Careful. Like he was approaching something fragile.

Like I was a cornered animal.

A new kind of panic twisted inside me.

I refused to be this.

I refused to be a monster.

My breath came faster, the hunger clawing at my insides. I stumbled back, pressing myself against the wall, shaking my head over and over again. “No. No, I can’t—I won’t—”

The air between us shifted.

Something flickered across Lucian’s face, something I couldn’t read. Then, in a blur of movement—too fast for me to process—he was suddenly right in front of me.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He was too close.

Every muscle in my body went rigid, my senses screaming at me to move, to run—but also to take.

His scent wrapped around me, dark and intoxicating, a scent I shouldn’t have noticed but couldn’t ignore.

My hands pressed against the wall behind me, my nails digging into the wood. “Stay away,” I choked out.

Lucian didn’t move.

Instead, he reached up slowly, pushing back the collar of his shirt. Exposing the bare skin of his throat.

I froze.

My entire body locked up.

“No.” I shook my head wildly. “Don’t—”

“You need to drink.”

I flinched. The words were so calm, so certain, like he was asking me to do something as simple as taking a breath.

But I knew what he was offering.

And the worst part?

The hunger inside me wanted it.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, horrified at the way my teeth ached, the way my body tensed with want.

“I can’t.”

Lucian exhaled sharply. “You won’t last if you don’t.”

“I’d rather die.”

His jaw tightened.

I meant it. I had to mean it. Because if I let myself—if I gave in—I would be nothing more than the thing that attacked me.

The monster that killed me.

Lucian studied me for a long moment, then stepped back. The distance should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. It only made me more aware of the aching emptiness inside me, the raw, gnawing need.

“If you won’t drink from me,” he said, his voice cool, “then you need to feed some other way.”

I clenched my fists. “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

His expression didn’t change. “Then you’ll need to learn control. Fast.”

A shudder rolled through me. Control. As if I could just will this hunger away.

As if I could stop hearing the pulse of his blood like a siren’s call.

I wrapped my arms around myself, forcing my eyes shut.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t real.

But when I opened my eyes again, the truth was still there.

I wasn’t Elle Valehart, human.

I was something else.

Something I didn’t understand.

And worse—

Something I couldn’t escape.