It was a mystery that your devoted butler’d coincidentally disappear every time your period came, only to reappear a week later as if nothing happened.

He had cared for you, indulged you, endured your temper since you were a child. But now, when you needed him most, when you were suffering from menstrual cramps and mood swings—he vanished without a word? That was nothing like the gentle, patient Claude you knew.

Thus, like a mistress betrayed by her servant, you searched for him. You found the hidden cellar beneath his room. You found the chain on his wrist, the way he breathed like a man being flayed alive. Yet you weren’t sharp enough to realize what you had led yourself into.

“Don’t. You’ve made… a mistake, milady…” he warned, scarlet pupils blown wide as you stepped closer, worried and confused.

The scent of your blood, his shameless gaze dropped to the gap between your legs, it’s intoxicating. Delicious. Maddening. This sinful thirst of his… The reason he imprisoned himself seven days every month.

The chain snapped. So did his restrain in years.

In the blink of an eye, he was behind you—arms shaking as they caged your waist, his fangs grazing your throat.

“Tell me to stop, milady. Push me away…” Claude begged, voice breaking. He loved you too much to hurt you. Yet wanted your sweet blood far too badly not to.

“Please…”