Chapter 4.
Adrian.
My name is Adrian Trinidad. Wealthiest Count amongst all the nobles in Transylvania. Alpha Vampire in Bran. Keeper of the pact and order between humans, Vampires and Lycans.
Meticulous and efficient since I became a vampire, a century ago. Never have I made an error.
But right now, am staring at an error I just made, minutes ago.
It’s almost 1am, the night dark and cold outside. I palm my face in frustration, trying to make sense of what just happened.
The door to the dungeon opens with a loud clank, and Cassius, my faithful henchman, walks inside, casually. He’s holding the chains I asked for, moments ago.
When he steps closer, he halts.
“That isn’t Denis’ shifter form, Ana Malov. Isn’t that the girl at the bar, Andria?” Cassius questions, the shock in his voice, explicit.
“Of course I know that! Don’t remind me!” I bark, frustrated.
He mutters an apology.
“I don’t know how I made the mistake,” I say thoughtfully, staring at Andria's limp form, on the floor.
The sack, which we used to cover her head, lays beside her on the floor. She’s wearing a jacket different from the one I saw her in, when that man in the bar groped her.
I laugh humorlessly, as I recall what I did to him there after.
After he was thrown out of the bar, I didn’t wait long.
I trailed his destination through his thoughts. Waited a little before I followed him. I prowled him in the dark, as he staggered to his house. Passing the terraced houses.
He had a wife, the damned man.
I played with him, like a kitten plays with its food, as I stalked him. The thrill I got from the hunt, exhilarating.
Before he reached his house, I growled, my body alive. My frigid heart, beating from the excitement, as I grabbed his throat. He had no idea of my presence.
Shock in his eyes when our gazes met. And when he pleaded for mercy, I thought about Andria and how he groped her. Touched her lewdly.
I thought of how his thoughts had violated her purity. Without a second thought, my eyes grew bloodshot; crazed from rage. My pupils splitting in two, dazing him, I sank my fangs into his throat.
The feeling I got from taking vengeance on him, drinking his blood, putting my venom in him, was gratifying. He constricted from my venom spreading through him like wild fire. The same way it spread through me, a hundred years ago.
“What do we do now?” Cassius’ voice breaks into my thoughts.
I’m silent, contemplating the issue. I stare at the jacket she has on. I smell it, flinching from the recognizable scent.
“Lycan.” I snarl, my fangs coming out, defensively. “The jacket has Denis’ scent. That’s how I made the error.” I disclose.
I watch the sleeping girl; her skin, flawless. Her hair, pouring over her shoulders as she sleeps. I touch her skin, electricity tingling my fingers, traveling all the way and settling in my cock. It springs to life in my slacks. And I love the thrill.
I see her on my bed, her hair spread before me, as I pleasure her. Make her pliant. I smile at the thought of sinking my tongue into her clit, tasting her.
“We have to take her back…”
“No.” I fiercely cut Cassius off.
He looks at me, confused.
“But…What do we do then? We cannot leave her here and we still need to track Denis’ shifter form.”
I hear Cassius but something else stirs within me. Something dark, which hasn’t stirred in me for years. Something forbidden and lustful, replacing the calm, within me. This me wants her here, shackled, pleading for what I can give.
“Get a body from the morgue, burn it until it’s unrecognizable.” I sink my fingers inside Andria’s pockets for any Identification. I find her ID card.
“Attach this to the body and drop it near the bar before it’s daylight.” I hand the ID card to Cassius.
He receives it, and nods. Eyeing me, suspiciously. However, he doesn’t question me. He knows better.
“Make sure you track Denis’ shifter form. And he mustn’t know we have him on our radar.”
“Yes.” Cassius leaves.
He is informal with me, whenever we're alone, according to my directives. Outside, he addresses me with my title.
I slip the jacket off Andria, tossing it aside.
I’d make good use of my mistake.
Andria.
I stir, my senses coming alive, my head foggy and aching.
I look around, disoriented for a few seconds. The air inside warm and comforting. A fire burns across from me in a marble mantelpiece.
I raise myself upright, the room am laying in, unrecognizable. Beautiful furniture stare back at me.
A cozy divan is set near an open window. It’s dark outside. The bed, large and draped in dark and red silks and velvet covers.
The interior, decorated with dark and red colored themes. A dark ambience in the room, giving odd vibes.
My senses finally return. I recall I was in the bar, preparing dough.
My phone?
I check my pockets.
My phone, even my ID card, are gone. I grow alarmed, rising abruptly from the bed. I rush to the door, opening it. It’s locked. I frown, confused. Worry creeps in me as I continue pulling the door.
“Hello!” I call continuously, as I pull the door handle.
Aggressively banging the door. I rush to the window and look around. Trying to discern my surroundings. Am on a highpoint in what looks like a stone castle. I see the houses below, all like tiny lights down there.
A stone castle? I puzzle inwardly, my mind working.
The only castle I know is the infamous castle of the Count of Bran.
I pale as I suddenly recognize my surroundings.
The wooden door opens with a loud clank. I shudder inwardly, in fright at who stands behind the door.