Out of my comfort zone

Out of my comfort zone
My heart pounded under my chest and I quickly pulled myself back as my body swayed with the urge to collapse. 
Why was I resisting death too? I should just end it all. Then, me, whatever was inside me, whoever I had been, and couldn’t be, wouldn’t matter anymore. 
I would be dead and gone. 
Wasn't that better than the disastrous conflict tearing me apart from the inside? Because it was definitely better than becoming the lust-drunk vixen I knew I’d be once Vale marked me and I was fully bound to him, mind, body, and soul?
I inhaled sharply. I forced myself not to think of him as anything other than the cruel, dangerous creature he truly was. 
You want to end your life just because you can’t resist the desire he awakens in you?
Then go ahead.
Syndra sneered in my mind. 
But before you unalive, I want you to rethink your decision. Don’t you want to experience his bite? Feel his touch… his tongue, his cock?
I found myself climbing down from the balcony rail, my breath shaky and my legs unsteady. 
I gasped quietly, a broken sob slipping from my dehydrated throat. I had never felt so humiliated, so utterly disgusted with myself, as I did in that moment.
As my feet met the cold floor, I admitted to her.
You are right. I want him. 
And we can have him. 
She responded in a gleeful voice and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. As if that wasn't what she wanted all along. To have him. 
I don't want to be completely under his control. Yes, I want him to fuck me, and feed on my blood, but I do not want him to mark me. I don't want to get irresistibly attracted to him so badly that I would forget myself and my biggest ambition to end his reign. 
I shared my deepest fear with Syndra, but she sounded indifferent when she replied. 
With me, you can enjoy every bite, every taste, every surrender. Let him mark us, dominate us, and ruin us. He’s one of three and I accept all of him as you have. You and I, Nyx, we were never meant to be weak. We were made to be passionate and devoured in return.
Deep down, I knew I wanted him for the dangerous, consuming passion we shared. 
I wanted to be the only one who could make him, Vale Orun Nömad, lose control, abandon reason, and do the unthinkable. But that thought made me recall that I had lost my family to him. That was crazy enough. 
“It wasn’t meant to end in blood,” his voice resonated in my memory, cold and unyielding. “Your family was stubborn. They refused to let you go. I only wanted you with me until the rumors died down.”  
There was no cruelty in it when he spoke. That was what unsettled me most. His voice had been calm. Sorrowful even. As if he were recalling a tragedy that could have been avoided if they had adhered to him. Like a ruler certain his will was law and convinced it was justice. 
And somewhere between the quiet fear rising in me and the heat spreading under my skin, I realized I wasn’t scared of him.
I was terrified of how much I wanted to understand him. To love and be loyal to him, despite it all. 
I had never felt more conflicted, infuriated, and provoked than I did right now. 
My heels lay discarded and forgotten somewhere, but I was still dressed in the sexy, short gown he had specially picked out for me. 
Would he come? 
He said I wouldn't be alone but here I was- lonely, barefoot, and flushed with need. 
Stupid me wished that he might appear, if only for a moment.
Part of me prayed for him to appear out of nowhere and bend me over the rail.
I knew I should be fleeing from him without looking back. But gods, all I truly wanted was to be beneath him, writhing, gasping, as he drove himself deep and ruthlessly into my soaked, aching pussy.
I wanted to be ravaged by him, no matter how much it might destroy me.
I was a mess of heat and confusion, and if I didn’t find some kind of release soon, I was going to scream or cry—or both. 
I heaved a long sigh. 
Now I understood exactly why I should’ve kept the hell away from him.
What in the realms made me believe I could really fulfill the viral prophecy and kill him?
This was just a suicide mission.
I had to be out of my mind.
From the top floor of the main building, I stared out over his extensive and royal estate. This towering building, I’d learned from Baran, was reserved exclusively for his countless Blood Slaves, and I had been placed at its very peak. 
The penthouse was the most extravagant, sprawling space I’d ever laid eyes on. 
It was lavish to the point of insult, as if luxury could dull the edges of captivity.
His Blood Slaves clearly didn’t view this indulgence as a form of imprisonment after all, their numbers kept growing month after month.
Vale had the highest count of Blood Slaves in existence. Maybe male, female, young, old, any willing human, above the age of sixteen. 
Once you were under his Blood Pact, you would enjoy benefits like healthcare, wealth, power, status, and also the chance to be turned by him. 
You would be shocked by how many people were dreaming that Vale should personally cross them over to the Dark side.  
The downside? Once he had marked you, no one else could feed from you unless he released you. It was said that anyone foolish enough to feed from one of his Blood Slaves didn’t live long enough to regret it.
The Nömad regime permitted vampires to mark as many humans as they could support. This was yet another barbaric rule that I found disturbing. Some high-ranking vampires didn't need to feed from humans because there were exclusive blood banks everywhere but they did this to ensure the safety of the humans they prefer to feed from, while others do it simply to exert complete control over the body, mind, and soul of their marked humans. 
Thirty years ago, no one would’ve believed that these bloodsuckers would reign over the States and turn us humans into living blood currency.
What was worse? How much we liked it.
Most of us were disturbingly content and eager, and to be possessed and pampered by some wealthy, centuries-old vampire who treated us like prized pets.
I thought back to the murderous, jealous gazes the girls living here had thrown at me when Baran escorted me in, and I shook my head.
This estate was already a storm and I had walked right into it. 
Fuck. I need to rest. 
I muttered to myself as I felt a slight headache brewing behind my eyes. 
I wasn't even that horny anymore. All I could feel was a dull throb in my chest and it made it feel heavier than it should. 
I let out a soft breath and entered the penthouse, shitting the double doors behind me. 
I made my way to one of the plush cushions and sank into it, still wearing the damn dress.
It was freezing. I had no clue how to turn on the heater. I mean. There must be a heater somewhere? Right?
But I couldn't see any buttons or a remote. 
All I could really do was lie there, shivering, feeling out of place and completely out of my comfort zone.


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