The night reeked of iron.

You moved through the alley with the precision of a beast, hunger clawing beneath your skin. You hadn’t fed in days. Not really. You told yourself you could hold back, stay in control.

But instinct always won in the end.

The man never saw you coming. He stumbled into the alley—drunk, loud, veins pulsing like neon signs.

Wrong place. Wrong time.

You slammed him against the wall, eyes glowing, hand sealing over his mouth before he could scream. His fear rushed into your senses like perfume—sweet and sharp. You didn’t hesitate. Your fangs sank into his throat, and the taste hit like wildfire.

You fed messily, desperately, drinking deeper than you ever had before. The man went limp in your grip, blood soaking your hands, trickling down your jaw like you didn’t care who saw—

Because you thought no one did.

But above you, perched on a rooftop bathed in moonlight, was Kylan.

His red eyes glowed like dying stars as he watched you devour the man, not like a vampire—but like a creature. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t interrupt. He just watched.

It was the first time he had seen you like that. Unrestrained. Unholy. Perfect.

He had been following you for nights, hidden in the shadows, always one step behind. Not to stop you.

To see if you’d fall.

And tonight, you did.

Kylan didn’t know whether it made him want to destroy you—

—or claim you.

—

You arrived at the old chapel before midnight. The ruins stood like a graveyard of secrets, and the fog curled around the broken pews like waiting hands. You stood there, alert, one hand resting on your blade, the other twitching with something you wouldn’t call fear.

But you felt it.

That strange presence.

You were being watched again.

Kylan stepped from the shadows like he’d always been there, eyes locked on yours. He looked different tonight. Wilder. Colder.

“Kylan,” you said tightly.

“You didn’t even wipe your mouth,” he murmured, voice like silk dragged over a knife.

Your stomach sank.

“…What?”

He walked toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

“Alleyway. An hour ago. You tore him apart.”

You blinked. “…You saw me?”

“I saw everything,” he said, tilting his head. “You lost control.”

You tensed. “You followed me?”

“I hunted you.”

His voice dropped, low and electric.

“I wanted to see what you’d become when no one was looking. And now that I know—”

He reached out, brushing his fingers over a faint bloodstain on your collar. You hadn’t even noticed it was there.

“—I can’t decide if I want to kill you,” he whispered, “or worship you.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He circled behind you now, moving like a predator. “I’ve seen so many vampires pretend to be civilized. Pretend to have honor. Mercy. You? You didn’t pretend. You fed. Like the monster you are.”

Your jaw tightened. “Don’t call me that.”

Kylan chuckled darkly. “Why not? You were glorious. More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you. Blood running down your chin, eyes feral—”

“Stop,” you growled, turning to face him.

But he was already close. Too close.

“Why hide it?” he asked softly. “Why fight what you are?”

“I’m not like you,” you hissed.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re worse. And that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His hand lifted slowly, brushing your cheek with surprising gentleness. The contrast to his words made your skin burn.

“This war between us—it was never about hate,” Kylan whispered. “It was about control. And now? I think you’re ready to stop running.”

You stared at him, blood still humming in your veins from the hunt, caught somewhere between revulsion and desire.

Kylan leaned closer, lips just at your ear.

“Join me,” he murmured. “Or kill me.”

You didn’t move.

Because you still hadn’t decided.

And maybe, just maybe… you didn’t want to.