Chapter 5

Vivienne's POV:

I had never raised my voice at Jinx like that in a hundred years. The force of my mental command hit her like a physical blow, and she froze mid-lunge, her small body suspended in the air for a heartbeat before she landed awkwardly on the forest floor. Her mismatched eyes went wide, pupils dilating to black pools as she registered my fury, my possessiveness, my absolute refusal to let her touch what was mine.

She understood immediately. Of course she did. We'd been together for a century, bound by blood and loneliness and the strange companionship that came from being two predators who'd chosen to remove themselves from the game. She could read my intentions as clearly as I could read hers, and what she saw in me now was something she'd never witnessed before—raw, desperate hunger, and beneath it, something that looked dangerously close to want.

Jinx's ears flattened against her skull for just a moment, then perked up again as understanding dawned in those mismatched eyes. She glanced once at the white-haired man still crouched on the forest floor, then back at me, and I saw the moment she made her decision. Without warning, she turned and bolted—not away from the man, but toward him, her small body weaving around his legs in a figure-eight pattern before she took off running in the direction of the castle.

The man jerked in surprise, scrambling to his feet as Jinx disappeared into the darkness ahead. "Wait!" he called out, his voice echoing through the silent forest. "Come back!"

I watched from the shadows as he hesitated, glancing nervously back over his shoulder into the darkness behind him. He was trying to see what had frightened Jinx so badly, trying to identify the threat that had made such a sweet little cat suddenly bolt in terror. But there was nothing visible in the darkness, nothing he could see or understand, and I watched the confusion and fear play across his face as he realized he was completely alone in a forest that had fallen into an unnatural, oppressive silence.

Jinx's small form reappeared briefly in a patch of moonlight about twenty yards ahead, just visible enough to be followed, and I felt a surge of gratitude toward my little monster. She was leading him to the castle, giving him a guide through the darkness while maintaining the innocent appearance of a lost kitten looking for home. Clever girl.

The man made his decision. With one last glance back into the impenetrable darkness behind him, clearly finding nothing that could explain Jinx's terror, he started after her. He moved carefully through the underbrush, his steps uncertain on the uneven ground, calling out to her in that same soft, gentle voice he'd used when petting her. "Here, kitty. It's okay. I won't hurt you." There was a slight tremor in his voice now, fear creeping in as he realized just how deep into the forest he'd wandered, how completely the darkness had swallowed any trace of the world he'd left behind.

I followed behind, keeping to the deeper shadows and moving with the silent grace that came naturally to my kind. The forest floor was soft beneath my bare feet, damp earth and moss that made no sound as I stepped, and I was careful to stay far enough back that he wouldn't sense my presence. Every few seconds, Jinx would pause and let him catch a glimpse of her before darting forward again, always just out of reach, always leading him deeper toward the castle.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. The way he moved through the darkness, careful but not panicked, spoke to a core of strength beneath that delicate exterior. His white hair caught every stray beam of moonlight that filtered through the canopy, making him easy to track even when Jinx disappeared into shadow, and I found myself matching my pace to his, following the rhythm of his heartbeat like a drumbeat in the night.

The scent of him was maddening. Every breath of wind that shifted in my direction brought a fresh wave of that perfect, complex sweetness, and I had to clench my fists to keep from closing the distance between us. My fangs had descended fully now, aching in my gums, and I could feel the hunger clawing at my chest with an intensity I hadn't experienced in nearly a century. This wasn't the mild, manageable need I satisfied with my artificial blood—this was raw, primal craving, the kind that made my hands shake and my vision narrow to the pulse point in his throat.

I wanted him. Wanted to taste him, to feel that blood on my tongue, to discover if it was as perfect as it smelled. But more than that, I wanted to keep him, to make sure no other vampire ever got close enough to realize what he was, what he could be. The thought of someone else discovering him, of another vampire sinking their fangs into that pale throat, sent a surge of violent possessiveness through my chest that actually made me stumble.

What was wrong with me? For the past century, I'd been perfectly in control, viewing humans with the same clinical detachment I applied to my laboratory work, seeing them as nothing more than tiresome creatures whose obsessive attention wasn't worth the effort of engaging with. I'd never needed to train myself to maintain that control—it had simply been there, as natural as breathing once was, as automatic as my heartbeat had been before I'd been turned.

But now, after a hundred years of peaceful isolation, I found myself stalking through the forest after a human I'd known for less than ten minutes, my body thrumming with need and my mind spinning with increasingly desperate plans to keep him close. This loss of control, this inability to simply walk away, was as foreign to me as the craving itself. I'd always been the one in command of my own desires, the one who decided when and how to act. Yet here I was, driven by instincts I couldn't suppress and a hunger I couldn't rationalize away.

Ahead, the man stumbled over a root and caught himself against a tree, breathing hard. I heard the slight wheeze in his exhale and realized he was getting tired, his pace slowing as exhaustion caught up with him. Jinx paused too, sitting down in a patch of moonlight and looking back at him with what I knew was deliberate patience, waiting for him to catch his breath before continuing.

"Where are you going, little cat?" he murmured, and there was something so gentle in his voice, so genuinely concerned for Jinx's wellbeing despite his own obvious discomfort, that I felt something twist in my chest. He was kind. Genuinely, inexplicably kind, in a way I'd almost forgotten humans could be.

I pressed myself against a tree trunk, my fingers digging into the bark as I fought the urge to go to him, to reveal myself and offer help. Not yet. If I approached him now, in the middle of the forest, with his scent overwhelming my senses and my control hanging by a thread, I didn't trust myself not to do something I'd regret. Better to wait until we reach the castle, until I have the familiar surroundings and the security of my own territory to help me maintain some semblance of rationality.

The journey continued, and I catalogued every detail of him as we moved through the darkness. The way his breathing gradually steadied as he found his rhythm. The careful placement of his feet as he learned to navigate the uneven ground. The occasional soft curse when a branch caught his clothing or his hair. The slight tremor in his hands when he reached out to steady himself against trees, whether from cold or fear or exhaustion, I couldn't tell.

My own breathing had become shallow and rapid, my body responding to his proximity in ways I couldn't control. I could feel my temperature rising slightly, the way it always did when I was close to something I wanted, my usually cool skin warming with anticipation. It had been so long since I'd felt this kind of physical response to anything, so long since I'd wanted something badly enough to feel it in my entire body.