Page 31 of Fangs

“You need to leave this house,” I say, the words coming out sharp and urgent.

Her brow furrows.

“You are in danger here. More danger than you understand.” I pace before her, my shadows writhing at my feet, agitated by my turmoil. If the Order discover what her blood truly is—if they taste even a fraction of what I tasted—they will not stop until they have consumed every drop. Is not just blood. In thousands of years, I have never tasted anything like it.

“You are not fully human, Lucille. I do not know what you are. But the power in your veins—the magic—it is ancient. So powerful. And it will be your end if you stay here.”

I see the conflict warring in her eyes.

She touches her throat. Her fingers come away red.

“You bit me… What are you?” she whispers, her voice small. “I’m so confused. felt a pull. A bond. I felt it snap into place.”

My jaw tightens. She felt it. Of course she did. The mating bond does not discriminate. It claims both parties equally, irrevocably.

“You must go,” I say. “Tomorrow. First light. Leave this house and never look back.”

“I can’t.” She gasps, her eyes wide.

“You are not safe with me.” My voice cracks, the words scraping out of my throat like broken glass. “I am a monster. And you—” I shake my head, my fists clenching at my sides. “You are like a drug. Impossible to resist. I want to drain you. I want to consume every part of you and leave nothing behind. And the worst part—the most damning part—is that you would let me.”

She stares at me, her chest heaving. I see the fear in her eyes. But I also see something that terrifies me more than any monster could. She wants this too.

“You must leave,” I repeat, forcing steel into my voice.

“I can’t.” Her voice breaks. “My father. The debts. If I leave, they will—”

“Your debts…” I stop, processing. “Money. That is what keeps you here?”

She nods, tears welling in her eyes. “I sold myself to save him. If I leave, they will kill him. The Crimson Order—they will—”

“Enough.” I hold up my hand, silencing her. “So what keeps you here is money. That is the only chain binding you to this place?”

She nods again, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“Then I will give you the money to go.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

My shadows stir, responding to my agitation. A gust of wind rises from nowhere, rattling the small table near the balcony doors. Papers scatter. The Crimson Order’s rule book, left open.

One of my shadows snatches it from the air. It carries the book to her, pages open, a pencil hovering beside it.

“Write,” I command. “Mark where you should go.”

She stares at the book in her hands, her mind clearly reeling. “I don’t—”

“There is an old cemetery behind the north wing of the manor.” I speak quickly, urgently. “The small chapel there, is adjacent to my tomb. Inside, you will find gold. Gemstones. A fortune that has sat untouched for years.”

She looks up at me, confusion and disbelief warring on her face.

“One gemstone would be enough to pay your father’s debts a hundred times over.” I hold her gaze. “Take as many as you want. Go tomorrow. Then leave this place and never return.”

“But—”

“The others—Thomas, Cain, the rest of them—they will kill you if they taste what I have tasted. They will drain you dry and fight over the bones. I cannot—” My voice catches. “I will not allow that to happen.”

She looks down at the book in her hands. Her fingers trace the page, and I see the conflict written across her features.