Pain came first.

  A dull, pounding ache pressed behind my eyes the moment I woke up, heavy enough that it took me a few seconds just to open them. I groaned quietly and rolled onto my side, the soft fabric beneath me shifting as I moved.

  This wasn't the couch from last night.

  That realization came slowly, pushing through the haze in my head.

  I blinked a few times, trying to focus.

  The bed I was lying in was enormous—far larger than anything I owned. Thick dark sheets were twisted around my legs, the mattress soft enough that my body had sunk into it slightly. The room itself was dim, the heavy curtains drawn across tall windows that let in only a faint glow of morning light.

  For a few seconds I just lay there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling.

  Then the headache hit harder.

  "God..." I muttered, pressing a hand against my forehead.

  My mind scrambled to catch up.

  Last night.

  The Blood Bank.

  The alley.

  Airis.

  And then—

  Cazaro.

  The memories came in broken pieces. His private room. The wine. His voice teasing me. The warmth of his hand around my neck.

  Then the bite.

  My hand moved slowly to the side of my neck.

  Two small tender points greeted my fingertips, sending a faint shiver down my spine.

  Right.

  That had definitely happened.

  I pushed myself up slowly, wincing as the movement made my head throb again. The room swayed slightly before settling back into place.

  Fragments of the night flickered through my mind.

  The strange rush that followed the bite.

  The warmth.

  The dizziness.

  His voice, low and amused somewhere close to my ear.

  You are so desperate to please me.

  My stomach twisted faintly at the memory.

  What the hell had I said after that?

  I tried to think harder, but the memories blurred together the more I pushed.

  The last clear thing I remembered was lying down.

  Then... nothing.

  Which meant one thing.

  This wasn't the Blood Bank anymore.

  Slowly, I looked around the room again, taking in the tall walls, the expensive furniture, the quiet calm that hung in the air.

  My heart skipped once in my chest.

  Cazaro's home.

  I had actually come here.

  And suddenly the reality of that settled heavily into my mind as the headache continued to pound behind my eyes.

  The headache didn't get any better when I sat up.

  If anything, the room tilted harder for a moment, forcing me to grab the edge of the mattress until everything stopped spinning. I took a slow breath, pressing my fingers against my temple.

  "Fantastic," I muttered.

  Carefully, I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

  The floor was cool beneath my bare feet, grounding in a way the rest of my body definitely wasn't. When I tried to stand, my knees wobbled slightly, and I had to steady myself against the tall bedpost.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Apparently being used as a midnight snack had side effects.

  I pushed the thought away and forced myself to stand fully.

  The room was bigger than I'd first realized. Dark wood furniture lined the walls, clean and expensive looking without being cluttered. The curtains along the windows were thick, deep charcoal colored fabric that kept most of the daylight out.

  Everything about the room felt controlled.

  Intentional.

  Very Cazaro.

  Near the door, my heels sat neatly on the floor where someone must have left them. I stared at them for a moment, debating if they were worth the effort.

  Then I slipped them on anyway.

  If I was about to sneak through a vampire's house, I might as well look like I belonged there.

  The thought almost made me laugh.

  Almost.

  I eased the door open slowly, peeking into the hallway beyond.

  Silence greeted me.

  No voices. No footsteps. Just the quiet stillness of a large house that felt almost too calm.

  I stepped out carefully, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

  The hallway stretched long in both directions, the floors polished dark wood that reflected faint strips of morning light from tall windows along the far wall. Framed artwork hung between the doors—nothing loud or decorative, just simple pieces that made the place feel more like a gallery than a home.

  "This place is ridiculous," I murmured under my breath.

  I started walking.

  Each step felt slightly unsteady at first, the leftover dizziness from the night before making the floor feel less stable than it actually was. Still, I moved slowly down the hall, glancing into open spaces as I passed.

  A sitting room appeared on my right, filled with low leather couches and a massive fireplace that probably cost more than my entire apartment. Across from it, a dining room stretched out with a table long enough to seat at least a dozen people.

  No clutter.

  No personal mess.

  Just clean lines and quiet luxury.

  For someone who claimed he didn't keep women around, the house certainly looked ready for them.

  I turned another corner, trying to guess which direction the front door might be.

  That was when a door opened nearby.

  I froze.

  The man stepping out of the room across the hall stopped at the exact same moment.

  Black hair.

  Sharp features.

  And that familiar raised brow that always looked like he knew something you didn't.

  Xavian.

  Cazaro's brother.

  For a second neither of us moved.

  Then a slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his expression with clear amusement.

  "Well," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. "You."

  His eyes flicked briefly over me, taking in the dress from last night, the slightly messy hair, the fact that I was clearly not supposed to be wandering around the house alone.

  "How interesting."

  I scowled immediately.

  "Don't start."

  Xavian's smile didn't fade when I scowled.

  If anything, it widened.

  His eyes moved slowly over me again, taking in the dress from last night, the heels by the door, the fact that I was clearly trying to walk out of the house like nothing had happened.

  "I have to admit," he said casually, folding his arms against the doorframe, "this is an interesting turn for you."

  I narrowed my eyes.

  "Oh?"

  His gaze drifted down my legs.

  "Seeing you wandering my brother's house dressed like that," he continued lightly, "was not what I expected to wake up to."

  My scowl deepened.

  "I was fired," I snapped.

  Xavian's brow lifted slightly.

  Then he nodded slowly, like the explanation made perfect sense.

  "Of course you were."

  The calm certainty in his voice made my irritation spike.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He pushed himself away from the doorframe, strolling a few steps closer like this was the most casual conversation in the world.

  "Humans are weak," he said simply. "Especially the ones running your little newspapers."

  My jaw tightened.

  "They couldn't handle the backlash," he continued, voice almost bored. "Your boss sounds like the kind of man who folds the moment things get uncomfortable."

  "That's not—"

  "Are you sneaking away?"

  The voice came from behind me.

  I froze.

  Slowly, I turned.

  Cazaro stood halfway down the hall, leaning one shoulder against the wall like he'd been there long enough to hear everything. His dark eyes moved between me and his brother, calm but sharp.

  Xavian glanced over his shoulder and smirked faintly.

  "She woke up," he said.

  "I can see that," Cazaro replied.

  His attention settled fully on me then, and the air in the hallway shifted in that strange way it always seemed to when he entered a room.

  "And yet," he continued slowly, "you appear to be leaving."

  I crossed my arms.

  "I wasn't sneaking."

  His brow lifted slightly.

  "Really."

  He pushed off the wall and walked toward us, each step unhurried. There was no rush in him, no tension, just quiet control.

  I hated how much space he seemed to take up just by moving.

  "I need to go home," I said.

  His eyes flicked briefly down the length of my dress before returning to my face.

  "For what?"

  "To change," I said flatly.

  Behind me, Xavian gave a quiet laugh.

  "She does look like she escaped the Blood Bank floor," he added.

  I shot him a glare.

  Cazaro stopped a few feet in front of me.

  For a moment he just studied me.

  His gaze lingered on my neck, where the faint soreness from last night still pulsed under my skin. Heat crept up my throat before I could stop it.

  Of course he noticed.

  "You look fine," he said calmly.

  "This dress is not exactly morning appropriate."

  Xavian leaned against the wall again, clearly enjoying himself.

  "I disagree," he said. "It's very appropriate."

  "Shut up," I muttered.

  Cazaro's mouth twitched slightly, like he was fighting a smile.

  "You're not leaving yet," he said.

  The certainty in his tone made my irritation flare.

  "You don't get to decide that."

  His gaze sharpened.

  "I brought you here."

  "That doesn't mean I'm trapped here."

  For a moment the hallway went quiet.

  Then Cazaro stepped closer.

  Not aggressively.

  Just enough that I had to tilt my head slightly to keep looking up at him.

  "You're not trapped," he said quietly.

  His eyes flicked once more to the mark on my neck.

  "But you are still recovering."

  My stomach twisted.

  "I'm fine."

  "Your legs disagree."

  Annoyingly, the brief wobble when I shifted my weight proved his point.

  Behind him, Xavian chuckled.

  "She's stubborn," he said. "I like her."

  Cazaro didn't even glance back at him.

  Instead his hand lifted, fingers brushing briefly under my chin before I could react. He tilted my face slightly to the side, inspecting the bite mark like it was something he'd left behind and intended to check.

  The touch was quick.

  But it made my pulse jump anyway.

  "You're not leaving until you've eaten," he said.

  My scowl deepened.

  "I'm not a guest here."

  Cazaro's eyes flicked up to mine again.

  "No," he said calmly.

  Then his mouth curved slightly.

  "You're much more interesting than that."

  Behind him, Xavian gave an amused hum.

  "Oh, this is going to be fun."