Chapter 49: Lost in his world.

Amaarae's POV 

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, frozen. My claws are half-extended, but I don’t move. I can’t. I watch Lucas as he pulls his shirt over his head, muscles flexing like he knows I’m looking. He doesn’t say a word, but every now and then, he throws me a glance—a look that feels like a challenge, daring me to react.

When he winks at me, I feel heat rise to my face. He knows the effect he’s having on me, but he doesn’t stop.

Lucas doesn’t rush. He takes his time, removing every piece of clothing as if he’s alone, as if I’m not here, watching his every move. When he’s completely naked, he stretches lazily, his confidence rolling off him in waves.

I try to look away, but my eyes betray me. My gaze drifts downward, and I swallow hard. His body is perfect—taut, powerful, and unapologetically male. My throat goes dry as I catch myself staring at his dick. I hate how much I want him to touch me, even if it’s just for a second.

But Lucas doesn’t even glance in my direction.

He walks across the room, his steps unhurried. My attention snaps to the corner where the bodies lie, twisted and lifeless. There are so many of them. More women than men, their forms limp and pale. My stomach turns as I notice the state of their bodies—naked, bloodied, and... dripping.

My breath catches as I realize what’s happening. The women’s legs are spread, their thighs stained with blood and semen. A strange, sick thrill coils in my gut, and I hate myself for feeling it.

I should leave. I should get up and run. But I don’t.

Instead, I sit there, my claws digging into the mattress, watching Lucas as he begins to clean up. His movements are calm, methodical. He picks up one body, wipes it down, and sets it aside like it’s nothing. I hate him for how easy this is for him.

And yet, I can’t look away.

I watch the muscles in his back move as he works, the way his body gleams under the faint light. My heart pounds in my chest, and I try to tell myself it’s fear. But it’s not.

It’s something else.

The smell of blood is thick in the air, mixed with something else—something primal. It makes me dizzy, makes my skin tingle. I cross my legs, trying to shake the feeling, but it doesn’t help.

Lucas lets out a small snort, as if he’s amused by some private joke, and tosses the last body onto the pile. Without a word, he walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open just enough for me to hear the sound of running water.

I stare at the open doorway, my mind spinning.

I shouldn’t be here.

But I don’t move.

Instead, I sit there, listening to the water as it splashes against his skin. My imagination runs wild, filling in the blanks with things I shouldn’t be thinking about.

What would his hands feel like on me? What would his mouth taste like?

I shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts. Stop it, Amaarae. Get a grip.

The water stops. My breath catches as I hear him moving around, and a moment later, he steps back into the room.

He’s wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips. His hair is damp, and the scent of soap mingles with the blood in the air. He looks at me, his expression unreadable, and then he speaks.

“Come here.”

His voice is low, commanding. My body moves before my brain catches up, and I find myself standing. My legs feel weak as I take slow steps toward him, unsure of what he wants.

When I’m close enough, he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me onto his lap.

“Lucas—” I start to say, but the words die in my throat.

He doesn’t give me time to think. His arms wrap around me, holding me in place. I feel his breath against my neck, warm and tantalizing. Then his lips touch my skin, soft at first, and I shiver.

Before I can react, his fangs sink into my neck.

The pain is sharp but brief, replaced by a strange, warm sensation that spreads through my body. My breath hitches, and my hands grip his shoulders as he drinks. It’s intimate, too intimate, and I feel my heartbeat quicken.

When he finally pulls away, I’m lightheaded, my skin tingling where his fangs pierced me.

Lucas tilts his head, studying me with those piercing eyes. His lips are stained with my blood, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me.

But instead, he smirks.

“Get out,” he says coldly.

I blink, confused. “What?”

“Out,” he repeats, his tone firm. “You’re done here.”

I stare at him, anger bubbling up in my chest. “You can’t just—”

“I can do whatever I want,” he interrupts, his voice like ice. “You’re still alive. Consider that a gift.”

His words cut deeper than I expect, and I feel a mix of anger and humiliation. Without another word, I push myself off his lap and stumble toward the door. My legs feel unsteady, but I force myself to keep moving.

As I reach the doorway, I glance back. He’s already turned away, like I was never there.

The door slams shut behind me, and I lean against it, my mind racing.

I don’t know whether to be furious, humiliated, or something else entirely. All I know is that Lucas is dangerous—not just to my body, but to my mind.

And I hate how much I want to go back in.

I feel my heart thump loudly against my chest, I think about leaving again- running away without looking back.

But, I had nowhere to go so I couldn't consider the thought at all so I wiped it off my mind.

I walked back to my door, pulling it open and banging it in split seconds with tears about to drop off my eyes as I walked in a circle. I walked round in a circle with many thoughts circulating my mind.. I didn't know what to do or say but I knew there was a hunger that resided in my heart. 

It was an inferno that burned my abdomen.. I craved him and I was lost in his world, just like a zombie- brainless and foolish, I walked to the mirror, pulling my clothes without thoughts in my mind.

All I thought about was him. 

Lucas.