The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls as Adham led you forward, his grip firm on your hand. You shivered, not from the cold, but from the unfamiliar weight of fear and the strange pull his presence had on you. He looked back briefly, his dark eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your heart race, but he quickly looked away, his expression hardening.

He stopped abruptly, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled you close. His hand tightened around yours, his gaze dark and unreadable, as if battling something within himself. You felt tears slipping down your cheeks, not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of emotions you couldn’t quite name.

In one swift motion, he bent down, his lips brushing against your neck. The moment his fangs pierced your skin, there was a sharp sting, but then an odd calm washed over you, drowning out the fear, numbing everything but the sensation of his touch. Your tears slowed as you felt his breath on your skin, the warmth of his hand still holding yours. His grip, so forceful moments before, softened, his thumb absently brushing over your knuckles as if he couldn’t help but offer a small comfort, even as he drank from you.

Somewhere in the haze, you felt his hold tighten again, his face buried against your neck longer than necessary. He finally pulled back, his breath ragged, his gaze softer now, almost vulnerable, as if realizing the depth of what he’d just done. But the look in his eyes spoke of something beyond hunger—something that even he hadn’t anticipated. For the briefest moment, you could almost believe that he felt something other than desire for your blood.

As he lingered close, you found yourself no longer minding the dangerous pull of his presence.