Aria’s POV

I should have left.

I should have run as soon as I stepped out of the ballroom, but my pulse was still thrumming, my skin still burning from Lorien’s warning.

"Get out of here, Aria. Before I stop resisting."

The way he had said it—low, raw, like it physically hurt him to hold himself back—made it impossible to ignore.

I needed air.

Needed to clear my head.

But as I wandered down the dimly lit hallway, I realized I wasn’t alone.

A sound drifted toward me—soft at first, almost muffled, but unmistakable.

A moan.

I froze.

Another one followed, breathy and desperate, echoing off the stone walls like a sin made tangible.

I took a step forward before I could think better of it.

And then I saw them.

A vampire and a human, tangled in each other, pressed up against the cold stone wall as if nothing else existed beyond their own hunger.

The girl was panting, her head tilted back in surrender, hands gripping his shoulders like she was barely holding herself upright.

The vampire—tall, dark-haired, his face hidden in the curve of her neck—was devouring her. His lips trailed down her throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over her pulse before his fangs grazed her skin.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Her hands clenched tighter.

And then—he bit her.

She shuddered, her body arching into him as his mouth sealed over her throat. Her lips parted on a breathy, broken moan, her hips shifting, rolling against his thigh as if she needed something more, something deeper.

The sight sent a slow, molten heat curling through me.

I should have looked away.

Should have left.

But I stood there, unable to move, watching the way she melted into his hold, the way he held her still, possessive and unyielding.

It wasn’t just about the bite.

It was the way her fingers tangled in his hair, the way his hands roamed beneath her dress, sliding up her thighs, gripping her waist, pulling her closer, until she was lost in him.

My breath hitched.

A terrifying realization settled over me.

I wasn’t just watching.

I was imagining.

Imagining Lorien’s hands on me.

His mouth at my throat.

His breath hot against my skin.

What would it feel like to be held like that? Tasted like that? Devoured like that?

I swallowed hard, thighs pressing together involuntarily.

And that was when I felt him.

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Lorien’s POV

I didn’t make a sound when I moved behind her.

Didn’t give her any warning before grabbing her wrist and yanking her into the shadows.

She gasped, spinning into me, her body colliding against my chest.

I pressed her against the wall, caging her in with my arms, pinning her exactly where I wanted her.

She was breathing hard, her pulse a wild, thundering thing beneath her skin.

I could still smell the heat on her.

Could smell exactly how watching them had affected her.

I exhaled sharply, trying to steady myself, trying not to give in.

"You should have left," I growled.

She stared up at me, eyes still glassy, still dazed.

"You were watching them," I said, voice lower now, more dangerous.

A flush crept up her throat.

I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Did it turn you on?"

Her fingers fisted my jacket.

I could hear the hitch in her breath. Could see the way her body reacted, even if she tried to fight it.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to.

I dragged my lips down, grazing the delicate skin of her throat.

She shivered.

"You want to know what it feels like, don’t you?" I murmured.

Her lips parted.

A small, barely-there sound escaped her—a soft, involuntary whimper that shot straight through me, igniting something feral.

I barely held back a curse.

"You don’t know what you’re playing with," I rasped.

"Then stop playing with me," she whispered.

Something inside me snapped.

I gripped her jaw, tilting her head back, forcing her to look at me.

Then—I kissed her.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was rough, desperate, claiming.

She gasped into my mouth, her hands flying to my chest, not to push me away, but to pull me closer.

And I let her.

I let myself get lost in the warmth of her, the taste of her, the way her body arched into mine, pressing, seeking.

My hand slid lower, gripping her waist before I hooked her leg around my hip.

She moaned against my lips as she felt exactly how hard I was, exactly how much I wanted her.

My fingers dug into her thigh, holding her there, grinding against her just enough to make her tremble.

I could hear the way her breath hitched.

Could feel the way she melted, the way she let me take whatever I wanted.

I was losing control.

I could feel it slipping, unraveling, like a dam about to break.

I tore my mouth from hers, trailing down her throat, kissing, tasting, teasing.

Her skin was so soft. So warm.

So willing.

I licked over the pulse point at her neck, letting my fangs graze just slightly, testing, threatening.

"Tell me to stop," I murmured against her skin.

She didn’t.

Instead, she bared her throat for me.

That was it.

I lost it.

My lips sealed over her pulse, my tongue flicking against it, savoring the way she gasped, the way her fingers clawed at my jacket, the way her body arched into mine, needing more.

I almost bit her.

Almost sank my teeth into her delicate, tempting throat.

But at the last second—I ripped myself away.

--------------

I turned, fist slamming into the opposite wall, stone cracking beneath the force.

I was breathing hard, my entire body burning with a hunger I couldn’t satisfy.

I had been seconds away from sinking my teeth into her.

Seconds away from breaking every rule, every line I had drawn between us.

And she—

She was staring at me, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with something dangerous.

I needed to get the hell away from her.

I turned, my voice like shattered glass.

"If you knew what was good for you, you’d stay the hell away from me."

She lifted her chin, stubborn even now. "And if I don’t?"

I stepped closer, voice dropping to something dark, something lethal.

"Then I’ll break you, Aria."

Her breath hitched.

I didn’t wait for a response.

I vanished into the night, my body still aching for her, my mind still filled with the taste of her skin.

I needed to end this.

Needed to prove to myself that she wasn’t worth losing control over.

But as I disappeared into the shadows, I licked my lips—

And realized I could still taste her.

I was already ruined.