Page 54 of Dearest Alpha Brothers 1: Vampire Prince

My fangs ached at the memory of how they’d looked at me. How Zane’s arms had felt around my bare legs. The way Ryker’s fingers had brushed mine when he handed me the book. Archer’s voice going all deep and growly…

“No!” I flopped face-first onto my mountain of plushies. “Bad vampire! No thirsting after brothers!”

But my treacherous mind kept replaying it all—the way Zane’s muscles had tensed when he caught me, how safe andrightI’d felt in his arms. The barely contained power radiating from all three of them. Their scents mixing together in a way that made my vampire instincts purr…

I settled cross-legged on my bed, carefully arranging my plushies around me as I opened the ancient tome. The leather binding felt warm under my fingers, like it held centuries of vampire knowledge.

“Vampire Feeding Fundamentals,” I read aloud, tracing the elegant script. “Unlike other supernatural species, vampires process blood as their primary sustenance. To a vampire’s palate, blood presents as regular nourishment—a willing donor’s blood might taste like a rich feast or fine wine. Power levels and supernatural species affect blood flavor. Higher-ranked supernaturals, particularly alphas, provide more potent sustenance. Wolf shifter blood carries different notes than fox shifter blood, while angel blood…”

That explained why I kept catching myself staring at my brothers’ throats. They were powerful alphas, so naturally their blood would be more appealing. Right?

But something nagged at me. If blood was supposed to taste like food, why did I keep imagining Zane’s blood would taste like midnight and starlight? Why did Ryker’s scent promiselightning and winter storms? That wasn’t food. That wasn’t normal.

I carefully turned another page, treating the ancient paper with the reverence it deserved. “Young vampires may experience increased urges during power manifestation. This typically presents as heightened hunger easily satisfied by any compatible blood source.”

My fangs ached in protest. They didn’t wantanyblood source. They wanted…

I shook my head, focusing back on the text. There had to be an explanation. Why my brothers’ scents affected me so strongly. Why being near them made my whole body hum with awareness.

“In rare cases,” I read, leaning closer, “vampires may develop specific feeding preferences based on proximity and pack dynamics. This creates a more satisfying feeding experience but does not preclude feeding from other sources.”

I sat back, absently petting my dragon plushie. That… didn’t quite fit either. This wasn’t a preference. This was an overwhelmingneed. The blood bag had been like eating cardboard while knowing a gourmet feast waited just down the hall.

The book held more chapters on blood composition and energy transfer, each page filled with precious knowledge about my kind. But nothing explained why my experience seemed so different from what was described. Why did I still crave food? Why did their blood call to me in ways that had nothing to do with sustenance?

I carefully marked my place with a bookmark and hugged the ancient tome to my chest. “What aren’t you telling me?” I whispered to it. “What’s happening to me?”

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the way Zane’s arms felt around me, howRyker’s voice had deepened when he said my name, the heat in Archer’s eyes…

I woke the next morning to Benedict’s gentle knock. “Good morning, Prince. Shall we get you ready for breakfast?”

The lavender silk shirt and black pants Benedict selected made me feel good, even if part of me wondered if certain alphas would notice. Not that I should care. Not that I should be thinking about them at all after last night’s… incident.

But when I reached the breakfast room, my heart still sank a little at their absence. Hunter was sprawled across two chairs, playing his video game while Aunt Senna arranged fresh flowers and Sylvie sipped hot chocolate, the morning sun making everything look soft and peaceful.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Aunt Senna said warmly. “Blood tea? I had the kitchen prepare your favorite blend.”

“Thank you,” I managed, trying not to look obviously disappointed. “Are…”

“The boys had an early meeting,” Aunt Senna explained, her expression knowing. “Even on weekends, empire-building never sleeps.”

“Oh.” I nodded. Of course they did. Running New Vale’s largest business empire probably didn’t pause just because their little brother made a fool of himself in the library.

“They looked kind of intense,” Hunter commented without looking up from his game. “Like, scary alpha intense.”

Sylvie kicked him under the table. “Ignore him, Luca. You know how busy they get with work stuff.”

This was normal. They were important alphas with responsibilities. My fangs ached at the memory of last night, and I quickly pushed the thought away.

After breakfast, Sylvie suggested, “Let’s work outside,” as she gathered her sketchbook. “It’s too pretty a morning to stay inside.”

She was right. The penthouse garden sparkled in the morning light, dewdrops catching the sun like scattered diamonds. We spread a blanket near the crystal fountain, its gentle trickling creating the perfect background melody for a Saturday morning. Sylvie stretched out on her stomach, colored pencils arranged in a rainbow arc beside her sketchbook.

I settled with my tablet on my lap, surrounded by the sweet scent of moon blossoms. A pearlescent butterfly danced past, landing briefly on my screen before fluttering to the nearby blood roses. Everything felt peaceful up here, magical even.

“What are you working on?” Sylvie asked, adding delicate shading to what looked like a gorgeous evening outfit design.

I tilted my tablet to show her the presentation. “It’s for the Beyond Beauty campaign. See, I thought we could focus on how supernatural essence enhances natural beauty. Like, instead of just sayingthis cream makes you gorgeous, we show how it works with different species’ natural magic.”

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