Chapter 65

I drove with utmost caution, my every move calculated. The last thing I needed was to draw the attention of the police. I wasn’t particularly worried about a ticket for driving without a license; that would only delay my journey to the Kessler estate. But time was slipping away for Hadrian, and the clock was ticking mercilessly. Thankfully, the road ahead was empty.

I turned onto a private road that snaked up a hill, my eyes flicking toward Hadrian, who seemed to waver between moments of consciousness. His labored breathing filled the car as the poison gradually seeped through him, ravaging his heart. Panic gripped me. I had no idea what I was doing, no clear plan. All I could do was hope that getting him to Kessler’s estate would be the right decision.

There were moments when doubt gnawed at me. Maybe I should have taken a different course—cut my own neck and let him feed, let his thirst take over. But I was too much of a coward for that. I couldn’t bear the thought of forcing him, and the fear of him hating me was too much to endure. I wanted to save him without crossing that line, without doing anything that might turn him against me. Using my own blood would be a last resort—a desperate measure.

I came to a halt at the large gate. To the left, a stone marked the entrance. I knew that Hadrian’s blood was required to unlock the way forward, but could I bring myself to hurt him any further, especially when he seemed so close to the edge?

“Hadrian?” I gently patted his shoulder, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need your blood to get through to the estate,” I said, unsure if he could even hear me.

His gaze was vacant, distant. He appeared to be in a half-conscious state, the kind of shell-like stupor where he seemed to follow instructions without really engaging.

With slow, deliberate motions, he reached for the glove compartment and retrieved a knife with an intricately carved wooden handle. He fixed his empty gaze on me, wordlessly cutting deep into the palm of his hand. I winced, watching as the blood spilled freely from his open wound. He handed me the knife without a single word, his expression unreadable.

I swallowed hard before exiting the car, the bloodied knife in hand. I walked to the stone, spotting a small hole at its top. With a shaky hand, I held the knife over it, letting the drops of Hadrian’s blood fall into the hole.

Moments later, the gate began to open. A rush of relief flooded me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of the uncertainty still hanging over us.

I didn’t ask Lucian if anyone still lived on the estate. Part of me hoped that the Kessler servants might be able to help, that their experience with saving lives like Hadrian’s might outweigh mine.

Once inside the grounds, the gate slammed shut behind us. I parked the car in front of a mansion that could have been another fortress, though a little less grand than most.

“Hello? Anyone here?” I called out as I stepped out of the car.

The silence stretched out in response. I should have expected that. In a different time, I might have found comfort in being alone with Hadrian—the way he made my heart race and my stomach flip. But not now. Right now, all I felt was terror.

I opened the passenger side door.

“Hadrian, I’m going to save you, but I need your help. Do you understand me?” I said, my voice quivering, praying he could hear me.

He nodded faintly, though his movements were sluggish, his face tight with pain. He climbed out of the car, struggling with each step. He didn’t say a word, merely pushing me away when I tried to offer him support. He stumbled into the entrance hall, took a few wobbly steps toward the stairs, and then collapsed onto the floor.

“Hadrian!” I rushed to him, trying to help him to his feet.

He stopped me with a look, his eyes seething with the strength he was barely able to maintain.

“The storage is downstairs... the code is... 100701,” he rasped between heavy breaths.

I nodded, barely registering the numbers, and dashed down the stairs. At the end of the hallway, I found the door with a keypad. I entered the code Hadrian had given me, and the door swung open. I could feel the tiniest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could save him.

Inside, I found a large refrigerator. I yanked it open.

“Two blood bags... Just two,” I muttered in a panic, my mind racing.

I didn’t know if this would be enough, whether it would even help him recover from the silver poisoning. But it was all I had. Without another thought, I grabbed both bags and ran back upstairs.

I opened the first one and brought it to Hadrian’s lips. As soon as the blood touched his tongue, he drained the entire bag in seconds. I handed him the second bag, and this time, when he met my gaze, there was something different in his eyes. It was fire. A spark of life.

A smile tugged at my lips, my heart pounding in my chest. Could I have really saved him?

“Thank you...” he murmured softly, wiping the last drop of blood from his lips.

“No, it was you. You saved me,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m just glad it helped.”

He smirked, slowly pushing himself up from the floor. The relief that washed over me was so strong that I nearly buckled under its weight. But Hadrian, now fully regained, was quick to catch me when I stumbled.

“We’ll stay here tonight,” he said. “I’ll contact my people to bring more blood.”

“Well, about that…” I hesitated, an awkward smile tugging at my face as I recounted everything I’d overheard from Lucian.

Hadrian’s fury was palpable. The timing of the attacks—right when he was out of the city, tied up with saving me—was too convenient. It almost felt like someone had planned it that way, targeting him while he was distracted. Had his enemies been working with the werewolves, as the Vexleys had? Was my kidnapping just a ploy to draw Hadrian away from Monteforte City? The complexity of it all was overwhelming.

Hadrian led me up to the upper floor.

“My room is opposite yours. You’ll find some clothes in the closet—Penrose tends to leave them behind. She probably took most of the blood supplies when she was here last,” he said, his face twisting in annoyance.

He opened the door to his room but paused in the doorway, his eyes locking with mine.

“Take a shower, then come to my room,” he smirked before shutting the door behind him.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. Hadrian's words sent an electrifying surge through me, igniting a wave of excitement that struck the most sensitive parts of my body. My mind betrayed me, conjuring images so lewd that I doubted they’d fade anytime soon. I needed a shower—a cold one.

Under the cascade of water, I scrubbed the blood and mud from my skin and hair. Once clean, I stepped to the closet, hoping to find something, anything, to wear. My hopes dwindled as I surveyed the options: lace dresses that left little to the imagination, plunging necklines, scandalous slits, and dresses with zippers running their entire length.

"Seriously?! Wearing any of these screams, ‘Come and get it!’" I muttered, panic rising as I sifted through the audacious selection.

Eventually, I settled on a black dress with thin straps. The neckline plunged a bit too deeply for comfort, but I tied the straps higher, ensuring full coverage. Even so, I felt exposed. The thought of Hadrian seeing me in this dress made my cheeks burn with self-consciousness.

I stood in front of his door, nerves tangling into knots. Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and knocked.

"Come in, Thalassa." His deep voice cut through the silence, making my pulse quicken.

Stepping inside, I found him sitting on the edge of his bed, towel in hand, drying his hair. His black shirt hung open just enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of his collarbones and a muscular chest that seemed carved by some divine hand.

"Sit down, Thalassa," he said, smirking as he gestured to the armchair across from him.

I forced a nervous smile and took the seat. His eyes roamed over me, unrelenting, as though stripping me bare with every lingering glance. Heat pooled low in my belly, and without realizing it, I clenched my thighs to suppress the growing ache.

"I talked to Gareth," Hadrian said abruptly, his tone sharpening.

"Y-yes?" My voice wavered, struggling to hide how my thoughts had wandered.

"The castle was attacked," he stated, anger simmering as his jaw tightened. "He didn’t contact me sooner because my army had to deal with it."

"The castle?" I repeated, my voice tinged with fear. "Is everyone all right?"

"They targeted the blood stores," he said, his frustration evident as he clenched his teeth. "They destroyed the entire east wing, along with the supplies."

I gasped. The castle was a fortress, one of the most secure places I knew. Yet someone had breached it and launched a devastating attack. The timing was too precise to be coincidental—the destruction of the castle’s blood stores coincided with the attack on Monteforte City’s blood banks. Whoever orchestrated this had immense power and resources.

"This was a message," Hadrian said, his voice heavy with grim determination. "Someone is challenging my claim to the vampire throne, testing my strength."

"Do you know who it might be?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"All the attackers are dead—either killed or they took their own lives. There’s no clear proof yet," he said coldly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. "But I have my suspicions."

That smirk—it was intoxicating. The sinister glint in his eyes made him impossibly more alluring. My resolve wavered as I sat there, captivated by his presence. His disheveled hair, the undone buttons of his shirt, the moonlight tracing his features—it all left me in desperate need of another cold shower.

Then I froze.

The moonlight revealed something horrifying. Thin blue lines emerged on Hadrian’s chest and neck, spreading faster than I’d ever seen before. My stomach dropped as the realization hit.

"Hadrian..." I breathed, my voice trembling.

He growled, clutching his chest as pain wracked his body. I rushed to his side, panic surging as I took his hand away to examine the source of his agony. The lines near his heart had turned black, the poison darkening his skin with each passing second.

"Why is this happening?!" I cried out.

"The full moon," he hissed through gritted teeth. "It’s making the poison... more potent..."

"What can I do?" I asked, my hands shaking as I watched him writhe in pain.

"I need... more blood..." His voice was barely audible.

"But there are no more blood bags," I said, my chest tightening as helplessness clawed at me.

His pain was a knife slicing through my soul. I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath.

"Hadrian..." My voice quivered, but I forced him to meet my eyes. "The only human blood you can drink right now runs through my veins."

His pupils darkened to a deep crimson, his gaze devouring me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I swallowed hard, bracing myself for what was to come.

I could only hope I’d survive his bloodlust.