Page 11 of Bloodstained
The room felt…alive.
I couldn’t place these stones, not consciously. The angles were wrong, the tapestries different… the air itself unfamiliar. Yet something inside me stirred with a strange, aching insistence.
Memory didn’t arrive as clear images but as impressions. I closed my eyes as the ghost of silk brushed my wrist and the faint aroma of lavender filled my nose. I felt the echo of a hand brushing the curve of my waist, even felt lips press to mine in a phantom kiss.
I remembered a shadow of… something. It grew deep in my bones that felt both terrible and heartbreakingly close.
But it wasn’t just the room that felt this way. It was this entire place. And as I stared at the stone walls, I wondered if I was in a castle. Whatever this place was, it was ancient.
I tried to focus on the cracking flames set in a massive fireplace. But I couldn't focus on anything because, a moment later, that familiar tingle on the back of my neck started again.
Becausehewas here. In this room. Watching me.
He stood by the large oak door, his focus on me, his hands clasped behind him. His frame seemed impossibly large, as the firelight barely reached him, but his presence was as commanding as it had been in the forest.
The light from the flames cast long shadows that flickered and danced around him, but even that glow felt dulled in his presence.
Because this man was intense in every single way.
I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, my body sluggish. When I glanced down, I realized I was no longer wearing my original clothes. Instead, what covered me was a thicker shift that seemed so outdated that it was like it had been handstitched ages ago.
I picked at the material and noticed a drop of blood close to the collar, knowing it was from the bite mark on my throat that this man—this monster—gave me.
Panic bubbled in my chest as I looked at him again. But I swallowed my unease down. Not only had he undressed me to put this shift on me but he bit me like he was a damn…vampire.
“Where am I?” My voice came out shaky, and I cleared my throat, grabbing the blanket and pulling it toward my chest as if it were a shield. “Who are you? "
His eyes gleamed as he watched me from across the room. They still held that same unnatural glow I’d seen in the forest. “I’m Ivan Tepes, and you’re at home, Clara.” I felt my eyes widen, and he took a step closer. “You’re safe with me,” he said and held out his massive hands. He must have seen my distrust because he followed up with, “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be hurt, Clara.” His voice was low and steady as he walked closer.
“I didn’t ask if I was safe,” I whispered back but cleared my throat again so my voice rose and showed my strength.
His lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile.
I knew I couldn't stay in this bed, so I kept the blanket tight to my chest and stood. The weight of the gown brushed against my legs and made me want to rip the garment from my body.
I grabbed the fabric and tugged it, my anger growing. “Where are my clothes?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he offered, “They were wet and dirty. For your comfort, I changed you into something else.”
I clenched my jaw as my fear was pushed to the background and my anger took control. Or maybe this was still my fear twisting? “Where am I?”
“My home.” He moved over to the fire and stoked it, his back to me. He was larger than life, literally, with broad shoulders and the muscles flexing and clenching beneath the light material of his shirt.
“Your home?” I shook my head even though he wasn’t looking at me. “You can’t just?—”
“I can.” His voice cut through my protest like a knife, slicing into me instantly. He turned to face me, only held still a second, and then was moving so swiftly I didn’t realize he was right in front of me until I felt his body heat and smelled the dark and intoxicating scent pouring off him.
“You were in my forest, Clara,” he continued, his tone softer now but no less commanding as he stared deep into my eyes.
His forest?
“Fate brought that moment to us. It was perfect timing. Kismet. So I took what was offered to me. And now… you’re here.”
The audacity of his words made my chest tighten, and my anger and fear were at war within me.
“This is kidnapping,” I said, my voice trembling and soft despite my attempt to sound strong.
“If it helps you to think of it that way,” he replied unbothered, his gaze moving over my face as if he was taking in every line and pore.
