Selene's cab dropped her at a cheap motel on the outskirts of Bucharest, the kind of place that rented by the hour and asked no questions. She paid in cash from the emergency notes she always carried, then slipped inside room 214 with the blinds drawn tight. The hangover still pounded behind her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the ache between her legs—a constant, throbbing reminder of Viktor's thick cock stretching her open, claiming her virginity in one ruthless night.
She stripped off the ruined black dress and stood under the weak shower spray, trying to wash away the evidence. Hot water stung the faint bite marks on her inner thigh and breast. They had already faded to silvery crescents, almost healed, which only made her panic spike harder. Normal men didn't leave marks that vanished like that. Normal men didn't fuck with the kind of controlled hunger Viktor had shown.
"What the hell did I do?" she whispered to the cracked tiles.
Memories flooded back unbidden: his deep voice commanding her to look at him while he sank inside her, the burn of that first thrust, the way her walls had fluttered around him as she came harder than she ever had in her life. She had begged. She had screamed his name like she belonged to him. And the worst part? Some traitorous part of her wanted to crawl back to that penthouse and beg for more.
Selene slammed the shower off and wrapped herself in a thin towel. She needed to think. Marcus had cheated. Her best friend had betrayed her. Her entire future had crumbled in one afternoon. Last night had been revenge, pure and simple. A one-time rebellion. She couldn't afford to become the kind of woman who let a stranger ruin her twice.
She dressed in the spare clothes she'd grabbed from her apartment on the way—jeans and a simple sweater—and powered on her phone. Twenty missed calls from Marcus. Twelve from Chloe. She deleted them all without listening. Then she booked the cheapest flight out of Romania she could find for tomorrow morning. Spain. Somewhere far away where no one knew her name and no one could find her.
A knock at the door made her freeze.
"Housekeeping," a voice called in heavily accented English.
She hadn't ordered anything. Heart hammering, Selene peered through the peephole. A bored-looking woman in uniform stood outside with fresh towels. Selene cracked the door, took the towels, and double-locked it again.
Paranoia. That's all it was. No one knew where she was. Not Marcus. Not Viktor. She was safe for one night.
She curled up on the lumpy bed, pulled the thin blanket over her head, and tried to sleep. But every time she closed her eyes she felt Viktor's cool hands pinning her wrists, his hips snapping forward, his fangs grazing her skin as he filled her with his release. Her body heated despite the hangover. She pressed her thighs together, ashamed at how quickly she grew wet again.
Sleep never came. Only restless tossing and the growing certainty that she had made a terrible mistake by running.
Across the city, Viktor Draven paced the marble floors of his private office in the Draven Tower, the tallest building in Bucharest and the public face of his multibillion-dollar empire. Tech, finance, shadow investments that spanned continents—he ruled them all by day. By night he ruled the vampire clans with an iron fist wrapped in velvet.
Darius Vale stood at attention near the door, tablet in hand, silver-streaked hair neatly combed. "We have her location, my king. Cheap motel on the eastern ring road. Room 214. She booked a one-way flight to Madrid for tomorrow. Paid in cash. No luggage."
Viktor stopped pacing. His black eyes burned with something between fury and dark satisfaction. "She thinks she can run from me after I took her virginity? After she screamed my name while her virgin blood coated my cock?"
Darius kept his expression carefully neutral, though a flicker of amusement crossed his face. He had seen his king claim many women over the centuries, but never with this level of raw possession. "Shall I retrieve her now? The sun is still high, but I can send human teams if you prefer subtlety."
"No." Viktor's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "I want her to feel hunted. Let her sweat a little longer. Send two of our best—quietly. Block the exits. Make sure she knows she's being watched, but don't touch her yet. I want her afraid… and aching."
Darius nodded and issued orders into his comms unit. Within minutes, two black SUVs left the underground garage, heading toward the motel. The men inside were human contractors—well-paid, discreet, and loyal. They wouldn't lay a hand on her. They would simply ensure she had nowhere left to hide.
Viktor moved to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out over the city that had been his hunting ground for centuries. The mate bond had snapped into place the moment he tasted Selene's blood—pure, untouched, deliciously sweet. It sang in his veins now, a constant pull toward her. He could feel her panic, her confusion, the shameful heat still lingering between her thighs. It made his cock thicken against his tailored trousers.
"She's mine, Darius," he said quietly. "Her body knows it. Her mind will learn."
Darius cleared his throat. "There's more, sire. The fiancé—Marcus—and the friend, Chloe. They've been calling her nonstop. He's already filed a missing person report, playing the worried groom. Shall I handle them?"
Viktor's lips curved into a cold smile, fangs glinting. "Make them disappear quietly. No traces. I don't want their filth touching her life again. And Darius… when you bring Selene to the estate tonight, prepare the east wing. Silk sheets. Fresh blood wine. And the restraints—velvet-lined. She ran once. She won't run again."
Darius bowed slightly. "As you command."
Viktor dismissed him with a wave and returned to his desk. On the screen was a single photo his teams had pulled from nightclub security: Selene dancing in his arms, head thrown back in abandon, lips parted on a moan only he could hear. He traced her face with one finger, already imagining how she would look spread beneath him again—writhing, begging, taking every inch of his cock while he fed from her throat.
The hunt was on.
Selene might think she was running from a one-night mistake.
But the billionaire vampire king had decided she was running straight into forever.
Back at the motel, Selene jolted awake from a half-dream of cool hands and deep thrusts. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Unknown number. She ignored it. Then another. And another.
She stood on trembling legs and peeked through the blinds. Two black SUVs had just pulled into the parking lot. Men in dark suits stepped out, scanning the building with professional efficiency. One of them looked straight up at her window.
Selene's blood ran cold.
They knew where she was.
She grabbed her bag, slipped out the back emergency exit, and ran into the narrow alley behind the motel, heart pounding harder than it had last night when Viktor first touched her.
She didn't know where she was going.
She only knew she had to keep running.
But deep down, some treacherous part of her wondered how long it would take for Viktor to catch her… and what he would do when he did.