Chapter Three
Annika
When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the dim glow of a flickering lantern. Shadows danced across rough stone walls, their shapes twisting and shifting in the dim light. My head felt heavy, and my body ached as if I’d been dragged through miles of fog and darkness. It took a moment to remember why—then, it all came rushing back. I’d given him my blood. I’d saved him, risking everything on a split-second decision I didn’t even fully understand.
I bolted upright, my heart pounding, and glanced around. The room was sparse, cold, and unfamiliar. The couch beneath me creaked, the leather worn and cracked, and I felt the weight of my situation settling over me like lead. Panic clawed at my throat, and for a moment, I considered running. But there was only one door, heavy and bolted, and I knew I was too weak to stand, much less make an escape.
Then I heard a quiet sound behind me. I turned, and there he was, watching me from across the room. His gaze was steady, cautious. He stood near an old stove, a mug in his hand, his expression unreadable. In the dim light, he seemed almost… human. Almost.
A tremor ran through me, and I shrank back, pressing myself against the edge of the couch.
He noticed. Of course he did.
His eyes softened, and he set his mug down, raising his hands slowly, like he was trying to calm a frightened animal.
“It’s alright,” he said, his voice a low murmur, as if he could see the fear in my eyes. “You’re safe here. No one knows you’re here but me.”
I swallowed, the dryness in my throat making it hard to speak. His words should have reassured me, but my mind was racing with images of that night, of his eyes wild with hunger, of my blood spilling from my wrist to save him. The memory sent a chill through me, and he seemed to sense it. His gaze was sharpening, steadying me with an intensity that was almost hypnotic.
His hair, raven-black and thick, framed a face etched with sharp, chiseled lines, each angle casting shadows that gave him an air of mystery and danger. His eyes were a striking, intense shade of dark grey, nearly black. His skin was pale, a shade that almost seemed to glow against the night, highlighting the contrast of his features. There was a faint scar just above his right eyebrow—a small, silvery line that added to his ruggedness, hinting at the battles he’d endured and the life he led in the shadows. His jaw was strong, with a slight roughness where stubble framed his mouth.
“Thank you,” I managed, though my voice was barely a whisper. I wrapped my arms around myself, instinctively drawing my knees up. “But… where am I?”
“This is my… place.” He gestured around the room. There was a hint of awkwardness slipping into his tone. “Hidden, out of sight. You’re safe. No one would think to look for you here.”
He stepped closer, careful and slow, until he stood a few feet away, close enough that I could see the sharp angles of his face, the shadows beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted, but focused. There was an odd gentleness about him, something I hadn’t expected. It didn’t make sense—he’d been a monster in the alley, half-dead and desperate for blood. But here he was, treating me as if I might shatter under his gaze.
Then, he took the words right out of my mouth.
“You… you saved me,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. “You didn’t have to. You didn’t know me. But you did it anyway.”
I took a slow, shaky breath, his calm presence easing my panic, the quiet certainty in his voice making me feel grounded, safe even. “I couldn’t just… leave you there.”
For the first time, a faint smile touched his lips, a flicker of warmth cutting through the tension. “Then we’re even.”
I nodded, still wary but finding comfort in his steady presence. The fear hadn’t disappeared, but it softened, dulled by the way he looked at me—not as prey, not as a tool, but as something worth saving.
He must have seen the fear still lingering in my eyes because he reached for something on the stove behind him and brought it over to me—a chipped mug of coffee, steam curling from the surface. He held it out, watching me carefully, like he knew how close I was to bolting.
I took it with hesitant fingers, my hands warming against the ceramic. The scent, dark and bitter, filled my senses, grounding me. I hadn’t expected this… kindness, not from someone like him. I took a small sip, the heat chasing away some of the cold that had settled inside me.
He lowered himself into a chair across from me, his posture easy, but there was a tension in him, a careful restraint. “What were you doing out there?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, almost as if he didn’t want to push too hard. “How did you end up here, in the middle of… all this?”
I hesitated, glancing down at the coffee as if it might give me the answer. He had saved me, and here he was, offering me shelter, warmth. If there was anyone I could trust right now, it was him. Or at least, he was all I had.
I realized then that I didn’t even tell him my name.
“I’m Annika,” I said simply, my voice steadier than I felt. “Annika Thompson. I’m a detective. I was sent to find someone. A missing person. The last trace of them led me to a small town on the outskirts of… wherever we are now. The place was called Ravenshade.” I looked up to find him watching me intently, his gaze unreadable but unflinching. “They said he was last seen there, and I thought I could… do my job. Track him down.”
His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of recognition in his eyes. I took another sip, letting the warmth seep into me, gathering the courage to continue.
“But the moment I got there, everything went wrong. It was like the whole town was watching me, like I’d been expected. I didn’t even have a chance to look around before someone—something—grabbed me, and the next thing I knew…” I gestured vaguely around the room. “I was here. Wherever here is.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but not in amusement. It was something darker, more knowing. “Well, Annika… I’m Lucas… And you’re underground,” he said quietly. “It’s a place few know about, hidden from the world above. A place forgotten by anyone who matters.”
My pulse quickened. Underground? I hadn’t even considered it, but now that he’d said it, I could feel it—the dense, damp air, the unyielding silence that felt like it swallowed all sounds, all light. “But how?” I managed. “No one knows about this place.”
He leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of something I couldn’t quite read. “It’s a long story,” he said, his tone carrying an edge of caution. “I’ll tell it to you, but for now, you need rest.”
I didn’t argue, though questions burned on my tongue, and the darkness around us felt heavier than ever. The coffee’s warmth dulled the edge of my panic, and I forced myself to trust him… for now.
I nodded, feeling my mind slipping into a fog of exhaustion, but then, a scratching sound broke the silence. My eyes widened in shock, heart pounding. I couldn’t recognize the sound immediately. Slow, deliberate. A scrape, then a pause. Then, another scrape. Claws… or maybe, something worse.
I glanced at him, panic flaring in my chest. He’d stood up instantly, his gaze fixed on the door, his body tense but calm. His expression softened when he saw the fear in my eyes.
“It’s alright,” he murmured, moving closer, his voice low and soothing. “It’s just wolves. They come by sometimes. They catch the scent of strangers.” He tilted his head, a hint of a wry smile pulling at his lips. “It’s something you get used to.”
My heart didn’t seem to believe him, each beat pounding harder as the scratching continued. I clutched the blanket, forcing myself to breathe, but the tension in my body refused to release. Sensing it, he came over, lowering himself to sit beside me. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me gently against his chest. His embrace was strong, steady, and despite myself, I sank into it.
The clawing sound persisted, and I buried my face in his shoulder, every nerve on edge. I could feel the beat of his pulse, steady and calm, and the warmth of his hand as he rubbed gentle circles against my back. It was strange, feeling this comfort from someone like him. A part of me knew I should pull away, that I shouldn’t allow this closeness, but there was another part—a stronger, deeper part—that wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms.
“See?” he murmured, his breath brushing against my ear as the scratching slowly faded. “They’ll go away. They always do.”
I lifted my head, feeling the last traces of my fear dissolve as the room grew silent once more. Our eyes met, and I saw a softness in his gaze I hadn’t noticed before—a warmth that pulled me in, made me forget everything else. He was close, his face just inches from mine, his eyes dark and endless. My heart raced, but for an entirely different reason now.
I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. His gaze held me there, rooted to the spot. The tension between us thickened, and without thinking, I reached up, my fingers brushing against his collar, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. His breath hitched, and his eyes darkened further, something raw and unguarded flickering across his face.
Then, as if drawn by an unspoken force, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.
The world seemed to fall away, the room, the shadows, the danger—all of it faded as I lost myself in the heat of his kiss. His hands cradled my face, gentle yet possessive, and I felt my own hands slipping up his chest, pulling him closer, needing him nearer. His kiss was slow, deep, like he was tasting every part of me, memorizing it. It was a kiss that seemed to break down every wall, every fear, until there was only us.
I had no idea what came over me. Kissing him desperately, as if my life depended on it, my fingers fumbled with the his belt, then with the buttons of his trousers. He pooled my dirty dress around my waist, wrapping it in his palm.
I could taste the coffee on his tongue, sucking it, playing with it. Fire exploded somewhere deep inside of me, a merging of a near-death wish with the wish to live forever in the moment. I couldn’t recognize myself in his arms, as if it wasn’t me at all. Yet, all I could do was give in.
His fingers slid my panties to the side. I could hear him groan against my lips, and it drove me wild with desire. I couldn’t stop myself. When I felt his fingers slide inside of me, all I could was moan and ride them, until I felt them deeper inside of me.
My clit grazed against his hard cock as he withdrew his fingers and grabbed me by the waist. I felt like a little feather taken over by a typhoon. He could do anything he wanted to me. I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me.
He could sense it. His desire mirrored my own as he settled me onto his rock hard manhood. I pulled away from him, staring into his eyes. I wanted to feel every inch of him inside of me. I wanted to see the desire etched on his face, in his dark eyes that threatened to swallow me whole.
I started to rock to the sound of the rhythm only the two of us could hear. I could feel myself becoming more and more wet as I grinded against him, feeling his hands spread my ass cheeks, as his tongue dived into my mouth, demanding of me everything I had to give. And give it, I did. All of myself.
I fucked him harder with each passing moment, as his other hand grabbed my breast, squeezing it. My pebbled nipples almost tore through the thin fabric of my dress. I wanted him naked, on top of me, but I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want this to stop, so I kept going. I kept moving. I kept fucking him like I never fucked anyone before, because a part of me knew that to be true.
I moaned louder and louder, knowing that there was no one to hear us. He grabbed my hair, pulling me back, exposing my neck. A million little goosebumps ran down my back, as he pulsed inside of me, exploding. I thought he would sink his teeth into me again, as I came hard, but instead, his lips locked on top of mine, kissing me fervently, reverently, until I didn’t have a single breath left inside of me.