Among all the other vampires, Thomas was the one she was particularly wary of.
There was just something deadly about his gaze, even though it came off as casual and friendly.
Removing his arm from over Ian's shoulder, Thomas casually strode into the kitchen.
Camelia tensed as he neared her, keeping her eyes on the floor. He came to stand directly in front of her. He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
"Why are you so tense around me? I don't bite, not unless I must," Thomas smiled.
Camelia said nothing. Instead, her eyes drifted toward Ian, who still stood by the door, making no attempt to interfere.
Thomas sighed as he removed his hand from her chin. He glanced at Ian, then back at her.
"Is there something going on between the two of you?" he asked as if accusing them of something, the smile gone from his face.
Camelia's eyes widened and she immediately shook her head.
"No. There is nothing going on between us," she replied.
Thomas nodded. "I see," he said, his eyes calculating as he began to circle her, each step measured.
He came to stand behind her, brushing her hair away from one side of her neck as he leaned in close.
"May I take a drink from you?" he whispered against her ear.
At his words, her shoulders stiffened as her heart thundered in her chest.
"I will compensate you," he added, brushing his fingers over her back through her clothes. "So what do you say?"
Camelia swallowed her nerves as she processed his request. She wanted to say no, but he was offering to pay, and she needed the money. Her eyes fell to the floor again.
A bite from a vampire was nothing compared to the merciless beating she had once received from her pack.
Infact, she heard it was barely painful, and felt like a light prick.
"Okay," she finally said.
Thomas smiled and closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent.
"Try to relax. I will be gentle," he assured her, though he was never known for being gentle when feeding.
When his eyes opened again, the red seemed to glow as his fangs elongated.
Camelia squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for the pain, but the next second a rush of wind swept past her.
There was a crash, followed by a heavy thud.
"Are you fucking mad–" Thomas barked, but his words were cut off by a sudden scream of agony.
Camelia's eyes flew open.
Ian was no longer by the door.
She spun around to see him standing over Thomas, who lay on the floor, screaming as blood poured from his mouth and his limbs twisted unnaturally.
The sound of bones snapping filled the kitchen as Thomas's screams grew louder.
It was a nightmare.
Camelia stared in horror. Was Ian doing this? How could he be hurting his own brother without even touching him?
The aura radiating from him was the same one she had felt on the training grounds that day, and it terrified her to her core.
Before she could think further, the air grew thick and burning hot. Her lungs seared as she inhaled, and blood spilled from her lips.
Her vision blurred as she dropped to her knees.
"Ian," she whispered weakly.
Just before losing consciousness, she saw him turn toward her.
His eyes were pitch black, like an endless night, terrifying her done to the spine.
.....
With slow movements, Camelia's eyes fluttered open.
Someone was sitting on the ground beside the bed where she lay. It took a moment to realize it was Ian. She was back in his room.
He sat on the floor, knees pulled up, one arm limp at his side while the other rested against his leg.
She shifted, swinging her legs over the bed. He noticed immediately and looked up. Worry crossed his face, then relief, and finally shame as he looked away.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yes. I think so," Camelia replied, her eyes studying his face.
Silence settled between them.
The events from easier replayed in her head, every moment. The why Ian attacked Thomas and inflicted so much damage without even touching him.
Terrifying was the only word that could properly described what she witnessed. And from just standing nearby, she nearly died from his immense, suffocating aura.
But still, she felt bad, because she knew that Ian attacked his own brother because of her. But why would he even do such a thing.
Camelia opened her mouth, wanting to ask but could not find the words. She was still somewhat scared of him.
"What?" Ian asked, when he noticed that she was about to speak but instead kept quiet.
"Nothing," she shook her head.
He frowned and stood, moving to stand in front of her.
"Nothing huh?"
"Nothing?" he repeated sharply.
"You wanted him to drink from you. You could have let him. You throw yourself at me, then at my brother."
He laughed coldly, dragging his hands through his hair, almost like he was trying to control his rage from exploding.
"Are you that much of a slut?"
Camelia flinched at those words.
"When did I ever throw myself at either of you?" she asked quietly.
Instead of answering, Ian reached for her face, his fingers brushing her cheek. She swatted his hand away immediately, and slapped him across the face.
"Don't touch me."
His expression flickered in shock as his palm came up to his cheek where she struck, then very quickly his face twisted into anger.
"You will not let me touch you," he muttered, his eyes quickly turning red, not angered by the fact that she'd just slapped him, but the fact that she wouldn't let him touch her.
He grabbed her hair and crushed his lips against hers.
Camelia cried out, pushing against him.
He released her mouth and shoved her back onto the bed, pinning her wrists above her head.
"Stop. Let go of me," she pleaded.
"Why?" he asked darkly.
"Would you prefer it if my brother was the one holding you like this?"
"Get off me, Ian!" she shouted, this time her voice harsher than before.
"No."
He leaned closer, and she froze.
Instead of kissing her, he pressed his face against her neck, breathing her in.
"I would have killed him. I still want to. For wanting you, he deserves to die," he whispered, against her skin, his breath bringing tinging sensation to her skin.
Something she shouldn't be feeling at the moment.
Silence stretched between them. Neither one of them moving.
"Ian," she said softly.
"Yes."
"Do you have feelings for me?"
Silence fell between them again.
Ian slowly straightened, pulling away from her. His jaw tightened, and his hands curled at his sides, his fingers slowly clenching into fists.
Feelings?
The word burned in his mind.
Did he have feelings for her? What a ridiculous thing to ask a man who was already losing control just from standing near her.
He looked down at Camelia. She was still on the bed, staring up at him with those quiet, searching eyes, waiting for his answer. There was hope in them, and that alone made something twist painfully inside his chest.
"No," he said at last, his voice flat.
It felt like he had just ripped something out of himself.
"Do you really want to know what I think of you, Camelia?" he continued, forcing a crooked, cruel smile onto his face.
He already knew what he was about to say would hurt her. That was the point.
"I think you are a slut. Trying to sleep your way out of this miserable life."
Her eyes widened. She could have slapped him again, but at that moment she just sat there, frozen
"You think if you become either my or my brother's mistress, that will be your escape. But that is never going to happen."
"I see," Camelia said, rising slowly from the bed. "That is what you really think?"
She wanted to see his expression as he gave her his answer.
He clenched his fists harder, nails biting into his palms.
"Yes."
"Okay," she said with a soft, broken laugh, covering her mouth.
Ian raised a brow at her.
"Why are you laughing?"
She waved her hand.
"Nothing," she smiled
A lie.
Camelia could see it in his eyes, in the tension in his body, in the way he refused to look at her.
Everything he had just said was a lie.
He did have feelings for her.
And to her, this was his confession.
....
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Small droplets of water fell to the musty ground of the dark cave. Each drop echoed through the dark cave, followed by the clinking sound of chains.
Flashlights cut through the darkness from the entrance as two figures approached. The lights settled on a brown wolf, restless as it tugged
on the chains binding its ankles and neck. Seeing the lights, the restless struggle ceased.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here." Luna Grace clapped. "Our dearest Mrs Bishop," she said, smiling evilly with cold delight