Ariadne shows her true colors

Fuck.

I barely manage to scream before I’m slammed against the wall, the air punched from my lungs.

“Ariadne?!” I gasp, but it’s not even a question.

It’s her.

Of course it’s her.

But this… this isn’t the cool, sultry woman from the club. This is something else entirely. Her eyes flash—not with seduction, but with hunger. Real, raw, predatory hunger. And when she smiles, the bright red lips part to reveal—

Fangs.

Fucking fangs.

“Oh my god,” I breathe. “You’re not— you’re—”

She doesn’t answer. She just presses into me, body to body, pinning me like a rag doll. Her hand still grips my wrist so tightly I feel my bones grind. Her other hand wraps around my jaw, firm and possessive, tilting my head to expose my neck.

“No. No no no no—GET OFF ME!” I thrash, hard, slamming my knee into her thigh. It doesn’t do shit. I try again—this time managing to twist, to scratch her face, nails raking skin.

She hisses. Not like a pissed-off woman—like a fucking animal.

I shove with everything I’ve got. “Let me GO!” I scream.

She falters for half a heartbeat, long enough for me to push her off balance. I stagger away—three feet, maybe four—and that’s when I see her properly.

Her red hair wild. Her green eyes... glowing faintly. Blood drips from a cut on her cheek where I got her. And those fangs glistening under the pale moonlight.

She looks like a goddamn demon. Like **** in a velvet dress.

“I knew something was off about you,” I pant. “What the fuck are you?”

"Don't deny what your eyes are telling you, girl. You should know I always get what I want," she says menacingly as she advances again. Calm. Unbothered. A fucking lioness stalking a limping deer.

I grab a trash can lid and swing it at her. Stupid, but I don't really have any options.

She catches it mid-air with one hand, rips it from me like it weighs nothing, and tosses it aside. The sound echoes off the brick walls, then silence.

Then she’s on me again.

She slams me back into the wall and this time, her hand covers my mouth before I can scream. Her face is inches from mine. Her breath is cold. Not minty—cold. Like frost rolling off a grave.

“You’ll understand soon,” she whispers. Her voice is low. Velvet and beautiful.

Terrifying.

Then her lips brush my neck. Oh fuck...

And then—

The bite.

Two needles of white-hot pain pierce deep into my skin. My body goes stiff with shock, muscles are locked, lungs frozen. It’s blinding pain, worse than anything I’ve ever felt—worse than broken bones, worse than bad sex, worse than Trevor grabbing me.

I scream into her palm. Muffled. Helpless.

My legs kick, trying to find footing. My hands beat at her back, her shoulders. It’s like punching stone.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking real.

Tears sting my eyes. My pulse is thundering, but it’s fading. She’s drinking me. Fucking drinking me.

And then…

The pain begins to dull.

Not vanish. Just… fade. Slide sideways into something else. Something thick. Warm. A strange, syrupy pleasure begins to unfurl in my stomach, rising slowly like smoke through my veins.

No—don’t you dare enjoy this. Don’t you fucking dare—

But my body doesn’t listen.

My limbs sag. The fight drains from me. My hands stop pushing. They grip her dress instead. My eyes flutter. My thighs clench.

She removes her hand from my mouth.

I want to scream. To curse her. To tell her she’s a monster.

Instead, I whisper:

“…yes.”

God help me.

She hums. Her hand trails down my spine, her mouth still latched to my neck like I’m her personal wine glass.

And I hate it. And I want more. And I hate that I want more.

My heart is pounding slower now. I’m lightheaded. Floating.

She’s touching me—my waist, my hips, my boobs—and every touch feels like fire licking down my skin.

I hate this.

This is what Ethan meant. This is what he was trying to warn me about. This is what was waiting for me at the end of the alley. Not some stupid mafia blackmailing or something. Her.

Ariadne, the fucking vampiress.

I’m about to pass out when—

“Ariadne. Leave her alone.”

The voice cuts through the fog in my brain like a lightning bolt.

Low. Male. Calm, but furious.

“Now.”