20. The Hunger In Her Eyes
THE HUNGER IN HER EYES
Reign didn't go straight to Soreya's.
He told himself he would. Told himself he'd drive straight there, sit her down, and tell her everything—the truth about what he was, what he'd been hiding, why he disappeared every night.
But instead, he found himself pulling into the back lot of After Dark.
The bass was still thumping through the walls. The club wouldn't close for another two hours, and the crowd inside was thick—bodies pressed together, bottles being carried overhead, money being thrown in VIP sections like confetti.
Reign sat in the Hellcat for a long moment, staring at the steering wheel.
He was supposed to go to Soreya.
He was supposed to finally be honest.
But the hunger was clawing at him—sharp, insistent, demanding.
The meeting with Arissa had left him wired, his emotions too close to the surface.
The attraction he'd felt toward her, the way she'd looked at him like she could see straight through his bullshit—it had shaken something loose inside him.
And now all he could think about was feeding.
Not because he was starving.
But because he needed the high.
He needed to feel something other than the guilt that was eating him alive.
Reign climbed out of the car, locked it, and headed toward the back entrance. The security guard—one of Sevyn's guys—nodded and stepped aside without a word. Reign moved through the narrow hallway that led to the main floor, the music getting louder with every step.
The club was packed.
Bodies everywhere. Designer fits, expensive jewelry, bottles of Clase Azul and D'USSé being carried through the crowd. The air smelled like weed, cologne, and sweat. The DJ was playing something hard—trap drums and 808s that made the whole building shake.
Reign scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the strobe lights.
And then he saw her.
Auren.
She was standing near the bar, talking to another bottle girl, but her eyes were already on him. She'd felt him the moment he walked in—vampires always could. There was a pull between them, something primal and unspoken.
She smiled.
Not the fake smile she gave customers. The real one. The one that said I've been waiting for you.
Reign's jaw tightened.
He shouldn't do this.
He should leave. Go to Soreya. Tell her the truth.
But Auren was already moving toward him, weaving through the crowd with the kind of grace that came from years of working the floor. She was wearing a black bodycon dress that hugged every curve, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her lips painted a deep red.
She looked good.
She always looked good.
"You need something?" she asked when she reached him, her voice low enough that only he could hear over the music.
Reign didn't answer right away.
He just looked at her—really looked at her. Auren wasn't just beautiful. She was sharp. Observant. She knew him better than most people did. She'd been part of his life for years, long before Soreya, back when he didn't care about hiding what he was.
Back when feeding was just feeding.
"Yeah," Reign said finally. "I need something."
Auren's smile widened slightly. "VIP bathroom. Five minutes."
She turned and walked away, her hips swaying as she disappeared into the crowd.
Reign stood there for a moment, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Don't do this.
Go to Soreya.
Tell her the truth.
But his feet were already moving.
The VIP bathroom was at the end of a private hallway, past the bottle service sections and the roped-off areas where the real money sat. It was cleaner than the main bathrooms, quieter, more private. The kind of place where deals got made and secrets got kept.
Reign pushed the door open.
Auren was already inside, leaning against the sink with her arms crossed. The overhead light was dim, casting shadows across her face. She looked at him with an expression that was equal parts knowing and hungry.
"You good?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"You don't look good."
Reign locked the door behind him. "I'm fine."
Auren tilted her head, studying him. "You been stressed. I can tell."
"I'm always stressed."
"Not like this." She pushed off the sink and walked toward him slowly, her heels clicking against the tile. "You got that look. The one you get when you trying not to think about something."
Reign didn't respond.
Auren stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell her perfume—something sweet and expensive. She reached up and touched his chest, her fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt.
"You came here for a reason," she said softly. "So let me help you."
Reign's breathing changed.
He could feel it already—the pull, the hunger, the need. His body was reacting to her proximity, to the knowledge of what she was offering. His senses sharpened. He could hear her heartbeat, steady and strong. Could smell the faint metallic tang beneath her perfume.
She was on her cycle.
Auren saw the shift in his expression and smiled. "Yeah. I knew you'd come tonight."
She turned around, bracing her hands against the sink, and looked at him through the mirror. "You know what to do."
Reign moved without thinking.
His hands found her hips, pulling her back against him. Auren let out a soft breath, her body relaxing into his touch. This was familiar. Comfortable. They'd done this dozens of times over the years—back when they used to fuck, and now, when it was just about the feeding.
"Come on," Auren whispered, her voice thick with anticipation. "I need this. You need this."
Reign's hands slid down her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress up slowly. Auren didn't move. Didn't protest. She just watched him in the mirror, her eyes dark and wanting.
He guided her to sit on the edge of the counter, spreading her legs.
His fingers found the edge of her underwear, and he pulled it aside carefully.
The scent hit him immediately—rich, intoxicating, overwhelming.
His pupils dilated. His breathing quickened.
The hunger roared to life inside him, demanding, insistent.
This was what he needed.
This was what kept him from killing.
Reign dropped to his knees, his hands gripping her thighs. He could see the evidence of her cycle, could smell the blood mixed with her arousal. His mouth watered. His fangs descended slightly, aching.
"Please," Auren whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, Reign."
He leaned forward, his mouth finding her center.
The first taste hit his tongue, and the world exploded.
Fuck.
The blood was rich and metallic, laced with something primal that made his brain go quiet and his instincts take over.
But it wasn't just the blood—it was the combination.
The taste of her arousal mixed with the menstrual blood, the way her body responded to his mouth, the sounds she made as he worked her with his tongue.
This was the high.
This was the addiction.
Reign's tongue moved deliberately, tasting her, drinking from her, pleasuring her all at once. He could feel the power flooding through him—strength, clarity, control. The chaos in his mind quieted. The guilt faded. The fear disappeared.
Auren gasped, her hands flying to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Oh god, Reign?—"
He didn't stop. His mouth worked her expertly, his tongue circling her clit before dipping lower to taste more of the blood. The combination of sensations—the feeding, the pleasure he was giving her, the way her thighs trembled against his shoulders—it was everything.
This was why he came here.
This was how he survived without killing.
He'd figured it out years ago: if he fed this way, during a woman's cycle, he could get the high he needed without draining anyone.
Without hurting anyone. The blood was already leaving their bodies naturally.
He was just... helping. And in return, he gave them pleasure that made them come back willingly.
It was transactional. Consensual. Safe.
But it was also deeply, dangerously addictive.
Auren's breathing became ragged, her body arching against his mouth. "Reign, I'm—oh fuck, I'm?—"
She came hard, her whole body shaking, her thighs clamping around his head. Reign kept going, drinking from her, tasting her, riding out her orgasm until she was gasping and pushing at his shoulders.
"Stop, stop, I can't?—"
Reign pulled back slowly, his mouth stained red, his breathing heavy. The high was coursing through him now—that familiar rush of power and clarity that made everything else fade away. His eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, that telltale amber that meant he'd just fed.
Auren slumped against the mirror, her chest heaving, her eyes glassy.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Auren's expression changed.
The satisfaction faded, replaced by something raw and desperate.
"Reign," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I need you."
Reign stood up slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I know."
"No." Auren slid off the counter, her legs unsteady. She reached for him, her hands gripping his shirt. "Not like this. I need you. For real."
Reign froze.
"I need you to fuck me," Auren said, her voice breaking. "Please. Just once. Like you used to."
Reign's chest tightened.
"Auren—"
"I know you with her," Auren said quickly, tears filling her eyes. "I know you love her. But she don't even know what you are, Reign. She don't understand you. Not like I do."
Reign took a step back, shaking his head. "This ain't about you."
"Then what is it about?" Auren's voice cracked. "You come here every week. You feed on me. You make me feel things. You make me come so hard I can't think straight. And then you leave and go back to her."
"Because I love her," Reign said quietly.
Auren flinched like he'd slapped her.
"I love her," Reign repeated, his voice firmer now. "And I can't keep doing this. I can't keep using you to avoid dealing with my shit."
"You're not using me," Auren whispered. "I want this. I want you."
"You want what we used to have," Reign said gently. "But that's gone, Auren. That was years ago. Before Soreya. Before I tried to be something other than what my family wanted me to be."
Auren's tears spilled over. "She's gonna leave you when she finds out. You know that, right? She's gonna see what you really are, and she's gonna run."
"Maybe," Reign said. "But that's her choice. Not yours."
Auren stared at him for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
Then she wiped her eyes and straightened her dress.
"You're a fool," she said quietly. "You're choosing a human who don't even know you over someone who's been here the whole time. Someone who lets you feed on her, who understands what you need, who would give you everything."
"I know," Reign said.
Auren walked past him toward the door, then stopped with her hand on the handle.
"When she leaves you," Auren said without turning around, "don't come back here looking for me. I'm done being your fix."
She opened the door and walked out, leaving Reign alone in the bathroom.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
His eyes were still glowing faintly—that telltale amber light that meant he'd just fed. His lips were stained red. His hands were shaking.
He looked like a monster.
And maybe that's exactly what he was.
But at least this way—feeding like this, during their cycles, giving them pleasure in exchange—he wasn't a killer.
He wasn't draining bodies and leaving them in alleys.
He was surviving the only way he knew how.
Reign washed his hands, wiped his mouth, and walked out of the bathroom.
He had a choice to make.
And he was running out of time.