2

Melody’s head throbbed.

She blinked up at the stranger standing beside her bed.

Golden hair. Crimson eyes that seemed to glow in the candlelight. Far too striking to be normal.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was low and rough, as though he rarely used it.

“How do you feel?”

Melody pushed herself upright.

Instant regret.

The room spun violently, and she swayed.

Strong hands caught her before she could fall.

Silk sheets. A carved wooden canopy overhead. Heavy velvet curtains. This was definitely not the forest floor.

“Where am I?” she whispered. “Where’s my dad?”

“Safe,” the stranger answered immediately. “He’s being treated. He’ll recover.”

His hand lingered near her shoulder before he quickly withdrew it, as though touching her was forbidden.

Melody narrowed her eyes.

The way he moved was strange. Too fast.

And the room…

It was unnaturally silent.

No ticking clocks.

No voices beyond the walls.

Not even the sound of breathing.

“Did you carry me out of the forest?” she asked. “Because the wolves—”

“The threat has been dealt with.”

The answer came too quickly.

Something about him felt wrong.

Not dangerous wrong.

Impossible wrong.

A nervous laugh escaped her.

“Okay, this is insane. One minute I’m being chased through the woods, and the next I’m waking up in what looks like a medieval castle with a guy who belongs in a Renaissance painting.”

He tilted his head.

“Castle?”

“Yeah. Castle.” She gestured around the room. “Tapestries. Candles instead of electricity. No outlets. This place looks exactly like something out of one of my fantasy novels.”

The word fantasy froze him.

For the briefest moment, shock flashed across his face.

“You read stories,” he said carefully. “Stories about creatures like me?”

Melody frowned.

“Creatures like you?”

The words settled heavily between them.

Her gaze drifted downward.

His chest wasn’t moving.

She had been talking for over a minute.

He hadn’t taken a single breath.

A chill slithered down her spine.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “You’re being weird. You’re not blinking. You’re not breathing. And why is it so cold in here?”

The stranger closed his eyes.

For a moment, he looked exhausted.

Like a man carrying the weight of centuries.

“I didn’t want you to be afraid,” he said quietly.

Then he met her gaze.

“But I can’t keep lying to you.”

The candle flames flickered.

The silence stretched.

Finally, he spoke.

“I’m not human, Melody.”

Her heart skipped.

“What?”

His crimson eyes darkened.

“I’m a vampire.”

The room seemed to tilt.

Melody stared at him.

At the unnaturally pale skin.

The motionless chest.

The eyes that looked far older than they should.

Every logical part of her mind screamed that this was impossible.

Vampires weren’t real.

Monsters weren’t real.

This had to be a concussion.

A dream.

A hallucination.

“You’re joking,” she whispered.

Alexander didn’t laugh.

Didn’t smile.

Didn’t even blink.

He simply watched her with those ancient crimson eyes.

And somehow, that was worse.

The truth settled over her like ice.

All those novels she’d hidden beneath her blankets.

All those stories she’d devoured late at night.

All those impossible fantasies she’d secretly wished were real.

They were real.

And one of them was sitting beside her bed.

Watching her.

Protecting her.

Calling her his mate.

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