{IRIS}
"A-Are you . . . planning to drag me into your ominous castle and turn me into your personal blood smoothie?"
I blurted out before I could stop myself, my voice wobbling between fear and something far more dangerous—curiosity.
He arched a perfect brow, his lips curving into a smirk that was equal parts wicked and unfairly attractive.
"Maybe." His voice was smooth, almost teasing, but there was something deeper beneath it. Something I couldn't quite place. "But in return, I'll give you shelter, food, and answers. You won't be alone anymore, Iris. You'll have me. How about that?"
Oh. Well, when he put it like that . . .
I bit my lip, my thoughts spiraling in a million directions. His words weren't sugar-coated. There was no deception, no grand declarations of flowery sentences. Just an offer—one that felt far too tempting.
I lowered my gaze, my heart thudding like a war drum.
"You won't be alone anymore, Iris."
It echoed in my mind, wrapping around me like a warm blanket on a cold night. And when I dared to look up, his eyes—deep and steady—held me captive.
I barely knew him. I had no reason to trust him. And yet . . . he was the first person to say my name like it mattered. Like I mattered.
His voice dipped lower, softer, laced with something dark and dangerously compelling. "You won't be alone anymore, Iris," he repeated, his tone like velvet and sin. "I promise you, you'll have me."
For a terrifying, wonderful moment, I almost believed him.
And because I was clearly incapable of making sound life decisions, I reached for his hand. He took it without hesitation, his grip firm and just warm enough to remind me that, vampire or not, he was very real.
Then, with a sigh that felt like surrender, I let him pull me to my feet.
He didn't let go.
"I do need your blood, though," he added after a beat, as if he were casually reminding me that I owed him five bucks instead of something significantly more personal.
I blinked. "Oh, well, as long as you ask it nicely."
His grin deepened, and I had the distinct feeling I was playing with fire. "I'll do my best."
Being a werewolf under the protection of a vampire was supposed to be a disgrace. The lowest of the low. The stuff of whispered warnings and pitiful glances. Most vampires kept werewolves as pets. And what would I became under his wing?
And yet, as he stood there, holding my hand like I was something worth keeping, I didn't feel ashamed. Or afraid.
For the first time in my life, I felt needed.
I should have said no. I should have run.
But when I looked at him—at the way his silver eyes softened, at the way he had spoken my name as if it belonged to him—I hesitated.
I had been abandoned. Cast aside. Forgotten.
And yet, in this moment, this stranger—this beautiful, dangerous stranger—was asking me to stay with him.
My instincts screamed at me to leave. My mind warned me of the dangers.
But my heart?
My heart whispered something far more dangerous.
What if you don't have to be alone anymore?
And that single, treacherous thought was enough to make my lips part.
I exhaled, my decision already made.
"Okay," I whispered.
And just like that, my fate was sealed.