There is a color deeper than blood,
Softer than sin and louder than silence.
It drips not from wounds, but from need
And tonight, it waits with its fangs behind silk.
🩸🌹🩸
The music dulled behind Amalia like a pulse wrapped in velvet. She followed the sound of silence, not the absence of noise, but the seductive hush that fell the moment the vampire moved.
The creature had descended the grand staircase like a woman from a dream. Grace molded into flesh. Now, her red heels whispered over the floor without sound, her long black dress trailing like spilled ink.
She hadn't said a word. And yet, Amalia followed her.
The corridor behind the main floor was dim, lined with dark mirrors and the subtle scent of rosewood and something iron-sweet. The vampire walked just ahead, never turning back, never checking if Amalia still followed. She didn't have to.
A black velvet curtain waited at the end of the hall. She pulled it aside with a single movement, revealing a private room. There's no windows or crowd. Just low crimson light, a curved couch like a sin, and a single glass table holding two fluted glasses. The room pulsed faintly with ambient music from hidden speakers, the kind of rhythm made for slow movement and bad decisions.
🩸"Sit"
She said softly, and it wasn't a request.
Amalia sat. The room's temperature shifted. Or maybe it was just her. Her throat was dry. Her skin too warm. Her pulse? Loud enough to hear.
The creature poured a liquid that slid into the glasses was the color of garnet, thick, almost syrupy. It clung to the glass as she handed it over.
Amalia stared at it.
🌹"It's not blood, is it?"
🩸"Would that make you run?"
The vampire asked, already sipping her own.
🌹"No."
🩸"Pity."
Her smile was soft. Dangerous. A slow blade wrapped in silk.
Amalia took a sip. It wasn't wine. It was darker, spiced, strange, something like plum and ruin. Her tongue tingled. Her skin responded like someone had traced fire down her spine.
She felt... warm. And exposed.
🩸"You wear the same face as all the others.
The vampire murmured, gliding closer, glass in hand.
🩸"Curiosity dressed up as courage. Desire pretending to be rebellion."
Amalia looked up at her. Her mouth was dry again.
🌹"And you?" You wear cruelty like perfume."
The vampire smiled, amused. Her heels clicked once, gently, as she crossed the distance and sat beside her. Their thighs touched.
🩸"So quick to bite back. I like that. But let's not pretend you came here to win a game. You came here to lose."
Amalia's breath caught.
The old creature reached out, trailing a pale finger just beneath Amalia's jaw, lifting her chin slightly.
🩸"Why are you here, young human?"
Not what are you doing here. Not the usual small talk. Just that "why".
And her name in that voice... it felt like velvet being dragged over bare skin.
Amalia couldn't look away.
🌹"Because I'm... bored of safe things. Of polite men and beige bedsheets. Because I want something real. Raw."
🩸 "You want to be ruined
The vampire said, as if stating a fact.
🩸 "You want to be seen, touched, undone. Not loved, not yet, but devoured."
The human flushed. Her glass trembled slightly in her hand.
The vampire leaned in. Her voice dropped.
🩸"You think you're ready. But you've never even seen the edge. You're still standing at the shore pretending you've drowned."
The creature didn't move right away. She just watched Amalia: gaze sharp, amused, calculating. A silence stretched between them, thick as honey and twice as dangerous.
🩸"Tell me something"
She murmured at last, fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
🩸"Has your straightness ever... bent?"
Amalia blinked, caught slightly off guard. Then she laughed, softly, low in her throat, the sound uncertain but genuine.
🌹I've never really been with a woman
Not like that. But... I've also never spent much time wondering how straight I am."
She turned slightly, meeting the vampire's gaze without flinching now, her voice quiet but steady.
🌹"Maybe I just needed the right... temperature. To shake a little."
The creature lips curved, not in mockery, but something close to approval. She leaned back just slightly, the corner of her mouth stained red like the promise of something sweet and dangerous.
🩸"A flame doesn't need permission to catch, only fuel."
Her eyes swept over Amalia again, not lewdly, but thoroughly, like she was reading her heat, her hesitation, her hunger.
🩸"You're not afraid of labels. That's good. You'll need that openness if you want to survive me."
Amalia's pulse fluttered. She wasn't sure if it was a warning or an invitation.
🌹"Who said I want you?"
She arched a brow, pulse skipping.
It was barely more than a murmur, but the defiance in her tone was clear, measured and cool.
For the briefest second, the vampire's blinked, intrigued. It wasn't often she was challenged. Certainly not like this.
Then her composure snapped back into place, quick as a blade returning to its sheath. A slow, delicious smile curved across her lips. Her eyes glittered like glass catching firelight.
🩸"Oh, sweetheart... your body already betrayed you."
Without asking, because asking was not in her nature, the creature leaned in. One hand rested on the back of Amalia's chair, the other slid deliberately under the table, her fingers finding the inside of Amalia's thigh.
🩸"You can't hide the way this tight little core...."
She purred, voice silk-wrapped sin.
🩸"...craves my tongue, my fingers. You've been clenching for me since the moment I stepped into view."
Amalia's breath hitched. Her legs stiffened under the table, muscles tense. Her cheeks flushed a violent heat that ran down her neck.
The contact had been brief. Barely anything. But it felt like it had rewired something beneath her skin.
🌹"You're... you're unhinged."
She said, forcing out the words. They lacked venom. They even lacked denial.
She wasn't meeting the creature's eyes anymore. She couldn't. She was looking straight ahead, eyes wide, jaw clenched, as if she was trying to wrestle her body back under control. But it wasn't working.
The vampire chuckled, low, wicked and devastating.
🩸"Oh, darling. You should hear the things I don't say."
She withdrew her hand like a queen sheathing a dagger, slow and smug. Then she rose from her chair, red heels clicking softly against the floor, a soundless dominion.
The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, something floral laced with dark spice. A hypnotic contrast, just like her: a perfect contradiction in every breath.
She walked a slow circle behind Amalia's chair, trailing one long finger across the fabric as if she were marking territory. Then she leaned in again, close enough for her breath to touch Amalia's skin.
🩸"You pretend to be curious. But your body is desperate."
Her lips almost brushed Amalia's ear, and the shiver it caused made the younger woman's breath stutter again.
🩸"If you ever decide to stop clinging to your pride and follow the ache between your legs instead…"
She tilted her head, sharp and regal.
🩸"You know where to find me."
And then she was gone. Like mist pulled through velvet. No goodbye, no backward glance. Only the scent of expensive perfume and something darker, older, magnetic.
Amalia sat frozen, her heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted out.
The room still buzzed with the energy the night creature left behind. It was like the atmosphere had been torn open and stitched back together with invisible thread.
God, that woman was insufferable. Arrogant. Unbearably full of herself.
And yet...
Every cell in Amalia's body was still reacting. Still wanting. Still wet.
She swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of the tightness in her throat and the heat pooling between her thighs. Her skin was on fire. Her thoughts, a chaotic mess of refusal and longing.
How did she do that?
How could a stranger leave her like this, undone without a single kiss?
🌹"Shit"
She whispered, closing her eyes and trying to breathe.
This wasn't like her. She didn't lose her balance like this. She didn't react to people like this, especially not to women. Especially not to vampires.
But there was no denying what was happening.
She hated how much the female vampire got under her skin. She hated how badly she already wanted to see her again.
She already knew. She was going to go back.