His blood

His blood

"Well, you're really not one for morning-after cuddles, are you?" he asked, a frown smeared on his face.

I screamed again, unable to believe that he was here. Right now. Right here. I killed him. I fucking killed him.

It didn't turn to reality until I felt his hand over my mouth, stifling my screams. I struggled against his grip, but it was vain, pointless. He was a lot stronger than me and the fear coursing through me didn't help either.

"You really thought a piece of wood could stop me? How amusing." His voice was teasing now, a smirk playing on his lips but I didn't take it lightly. There was a dangerous fire flickering in his face.

I drew his hand away from my mouth and rushed out of the car to catch my breath. Cold wrapped around me. My chest rose and dropped. I blinked at him as he stepped out. My one hand fell over my hip while the other one was over my mouth. How was he alive? I stabbed him.

He was dead.

Literally dead.

"Oh, now you're the one scared." His smirk turned into a frown as he neared me.

"Lucien—"

"You stabbed me, you little—"

"I just wanted to see my mother," I stammered, trying to explain to him.

"You just what?" he snarled, taking a step closer. I saw him under the gas station lights and he was still wearing the shirt, but it was covered in blood. His blood. "You thought you could kill me and just leave? Run back to your safe little world?"

"No," I shook my head. "I didn't want to kill you and you didn't die," I whispered, almost pleading.

"You'll soon wish I had." There was barely any distance left between us.

He closed whatever there was left and grabbed my arm, pulling me to himself. His eyes pierced straight through my soul and an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. His grip tightened around my arm, each finger digging into my flesh while his gaze drilled into mine.

There was silence. It was quiet, so quiet I could hear my heart beating.

Under his scrutiny, I didn't blink. I couldn't. My thoughts were being stripped bare. He was reading my mind, hearing my thoughts and everything that was going on inside my head. Everything. A pang of terror struck me. He had never done this before, he had never read my mind.

I could feel it—feel him—scraping through the layers of my consciousness. He moved deeper, leaving no memory untouched. I tried to fight back, to block him out, but he was deep inside.

I couldn't move, couldn't think.

Suddenly, he stopped and released me from his hold. "You tricked me," he accused, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

"No, Lucien, I didn't," I shook my head. It wasn't like that.

"Again."

"No—" I knew where he was going but it wasn't meant to be like this. I didn't just want to sleep with him and then stab him. It was in my mind already, before he came to me.

I couldn't hold my lust back, not when he was already reaching.

"I showed you my heart and you chose to stake it." He cut me off, his eyes turning red with anger. It surfaced and covered his face in a different way than before.

"I wanted to go home. I was scared, and I didn't know what to do."

"Scared?" He cocked a brow at me. "You ran a stake through me, Aurora, left me for dead after I showed you nothing but care. I could have broken you in ways you can even imagine, yet I chose kindness. Your innocent act isn't going to cut it this time."

"You spoke about my mother—you didn't care whether she lived or not."

"And I still don't," he retorted, his eyes cold as ice. The sharpness of his words stung, even more than the cold. His face turned away from me, but only for a moment. "I must admit, you've added a whole new level to the term monster."

Fear constricted my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I could see the betrayal in his eyes. And it burned me.

"But you don't understand—" I began to protest.

"I understand perfectly. You played me. Again."

Just as I opened my mouth to argue, the creaking of the main door broke the tense silence. Boots crunched on the ground as the cashier from the store stepped out, his brows furrowed with concern.

"Is everything okay out here?" he asked, darting his eyes between Lucien and me.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My eyes moved from the cashier to Lucien, who wasn't calm. The corner of his lips curled and I knew what was coming next. I already knew it.

"Apparently, I'm the monster in her mind after she killed me," he moved away from the car and near to the cashier. Light illuminated on his face from the store and I saw his eyes changing. "Can you believe it? She stabbed me in my sleep. Now that's a monster, don't you think?"

The cashier's eyes widened. "I—I don't want any trouble."

"No trouble here," he took a few steps forward. "I'm just fucking hungry after she bled me out, and I can't drink from her so I'm choosing the better option. You."

The cashier stepped back, horror on his face, but that didn't stop Lucien.

"No, Lucien!" I blurted out, moving forward, trying to stop him. But his hunger and his rage, it was solid, blinding him.

He didn't even wait for a moment before attacking the cashier. His fangs pierced through his neck and the cashier screamed in pain. I stepped back, covering my mouth as I saw Lucien draining the innocent man—my heart pounded.

I didn't intervene, it was too late.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I witnessed him feasting upon the man without any mercy. He didn't stop. He continued for several seconds. My stomach churned.

Finally, he released the cashier from his grip and tossed his body toward me. It slumped on me and for a moment I thought he was alive until I saw his face. I was frozen in place.

The man was dead.

Just like that.

"His blood is on you," Lucien declared while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Next time, try killing when I'm awake. I might even let you if I'm in a good mood."