"You won't drain me." I pushed my bleeding palm closer to his mouth. "Your humanity's stronger than your hunger. Always has been."
"You don't know—"
"And the cut's from silver." I lifted the stake with my free hand. "It'll burn like acid if you take too much. Built-in safety."
His resolve shattered. He grabbed my wrist with both hands, mouth closing over the wound.
The first pull was gentle—controlled, careful, a man sipping wine at dinner.
Then hunger crashed through his restraint like a wave through sand castles. He drank with steady, mechanical draws that turned him from husband to parasite.
The room tilted. My knees softened. But I watched the changes—bruises fading from purple to yellow to nothing. Split skin knitting closed. That corpse-gray pallor warming to something almost living.
"Enough." The word came out steady despite the dizzy spin behind my eyes.
He didn't stop. His grip tightened, pulling my arm closer, drinking deeper. His eyes locked on mine—silver gone to mercury, pupils blown wide, nothing human in that stare.
"Alistair. Stop."
Another pull. Another. My vision grayed at the edges.
I brought the stake up, pressed its point to his chest exactly where his heart should beat. Not piercing—not yet—but the threat rang clear as church bells.
"Stop now, or I'll make you stop."
He jerked back like I'd slapped him. Blood—my blood—painted his mouth crimson. For a heartbeat we both froze, the weight of what had just happened crushing down.
"Christ." He snatched a cloth from the washbasin, scrubbed his mouth with violent efficiency. "Helena, I—"
"Nothing to forgive." I pressed my palm against my skirt, but he was already moving.
"Let me." He grabbed clean linen, wrapped my hand with practiced precision. His fingers worked steady despite the tremor beneath. "The bleeding's stopped. Good."
He dropped to his knees, mopped the blood from the floor with sharp, mechanical strokes. Every movement radiated shame.
"The taste—" He didn't look up. "God help me, it's the finest thing I've ever known."
"Better than sex?" I managed a shaky laugh. "Should I be offended or flattered?"
"Helena—"
"I'll go with flattered. I'm exceptional in all areas, apparently."
He stood, tossed the bloodied clothes into the fire where they hissed and blackened. Then he pulled on his shirt, fastened each button with excessive focus.
"That was dangerous." His back stayed turned. "Insanely dangerous."
"It worked. Look at yourself."
He did, catching his reflection in the mirror. The transformation was undeniable—bruises gone, color returned, that near-living vitality restored.
The door slammed open. Nathaniel stood framed in a lamplight, gaze sweeping the room—me sitting on the bed's edge, Alistair buttoning his cuffs, everything seemingly proper except for the tension crackling between us.
"Ever heard of knocking?" Alistair's voice could have frozen flame.
"Not when a vampire might be draining a woman." Nathaniel's hand rested on his stake. "Doors are luxuries when seconds matter."
The accusation hung between them. I couldn't entirely fault Nathaniel's suspicion—he'd walked in on exactly what it looked like.
"Maeve?" I asked before they could escalate.
"Conscious. Asking for you." Nathaniel's eyes never left Alistair. "Her color's returning. She'll recover if she rests."
I pushed past both men, done with their territorial posturing.
Maeve's room smelled of lavender and copper. She lay propped against pillows, white as fresh linen but alert. The moment she saw me, she launched upright, arms flying around my neck.
"Helena. God, Helena." Her voice came out cracked, raw. "It was—he looked like anyone. Just a man in traveling clothes. Then his face changed and the world went into a nightmare."
"You're safe now."
"Am I?" She pulled back, studying my face with those sharp hazel eyes. "The things he said while feeding. About building an empire. About turning nobility like collecting chess pieces."
"Maeve—"
"He wanted me to join willingly." Her laugh scraped like glass. "Said I'd make an excellent addition. All that knowledge, that rebellion, turned to his purpose."
"But you didn't—"
"Turn?" She pressed a hand to her throat where bandages covered the wounds. "No. Still breathing. Still human. Still myself." She gripped my hands. "That's what matters, isn't it? That we're still ourselves after the monsters?"
"Yes." The word came out thick. "That's what matters."
"The servants look like an army." She shifted topics with her usual abruptness. "Armed patrols. Weapons everywhere. What happened while I was gone?"
"The elder sent turned peasants. We lost—"
The door crashed open again. Alistair and Nathaniel charged through together, their animosity momentarily suspended.
"They're here." Alistair's words cut sharp. "The elder's at the gate."
"With reinforcements." Nathaniel already had two stakes drawn. "Fresh-turned. Maybe twenty."
"Twenty?" My voice pitched high.
"Both of you stay here." Alistair pointed at Maeve and me. "Bar the door. Don't open it for anyone but us."
"The servants can't handle those numbers without us," Nathaniel added. "We'll take the fight outside. Draw them away from the house."
"That's suicide." I stood, the stake still in my grip.
"Better odds than letting them inside." Alistair moved to the door. "You two stay hidden."
They left before we could argue, boots thundering down the corridor.
Maeve and I looked at each other. Her expression mirrored my thoughts exactly—the hell with hiding.
"Can you stand?" I asked.
"I can fight." She swung her legs over the bed's edge.
"You just lost half your blood—"
"And I'm getting rather tired of vampires thinking I'm weak." She got into a fighting stance. "They want noble blood? Let them choke on it."
She swayed but stayed upright, jaw locked with determination.
"We're going to die," I said.
"Probably." She smiled, fierce and brilliant. "But not hiding like frightened rabbits."
Screams erupted from below—not human. The metallic shriek of vampires meeting silver.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Never." She laughed. "But let's go anyway."
The smart choice would be to bar ourselves in, wait for rescue or death.
But we'd both stopped making smart choices long ago. Now we made the necessary ones.