Kole''s mind raced as he weighed the impossible choice before him. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to fight, to resist, but the cold, predatory stares of the three vampires reminded him that resistance was futile.


    “I…” He took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”


    The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but before he could process what he had just agreed to, Auron’s eyes lit up with an intense hunger. In a blur, he lunged at Kole, his fangs bared and his growl low and primal.


    Kole yelped, scrambling back as far as the chains would allow, but it wasn’t enough. Auron’s hand gripped his shoulder, pinning him down with a force that felt like being crushed beneath a mountain.


    “Auron, stop!” Thorne’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. He moved with lightning speed, grabbing Auron’s arm and yanking him back. “Not yet.”


    Laurent was there a second later, shoving Auron further away from Kole. “Control yourself,” he hissed, his tone icy but laced with frustration. “We need him alive, not drained.”


    Auron snarled, his crimson eyes wild. “He said yes! What are we waiting for?”


    “We’re not savages,” Thorne snapped, his regal composure cracking just enough to reveal a flash of irritation. “The process must be controlled, or we risk ruining everything.”


    Laurent’s grip on Auron’s arm tightened as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “If you can’t restrain yourself, perhaps you’re not worthy of the power his blood can offer.”


    Auron’s lips curled back in a snarl, but he didn’t push further. He wrenched himself free from their hold, pacing to the far side of the room like a caged predator. His shoulders heaved with restrained fury, but he didn’t make another move toward Kole.


    Kole sat frozen, his heart hammering in his chest. The fear coursing through him was almost paralyzing, but the sight of the vampires arguing over him sent a shiver down his spine. He was nothing more than prey to them, a prize they were barely holding themselves back from tearing apart.


    Thorne turned to Kole, his expression carefully composed once more. “Forgive the outburst,” he said smoothly, as though they hadn’t just been moments away from ripping him to shreds. “Auron can be… impulsive.”


    Laurent offered a thin smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Consider it a compliment. Your blood is more tempting than you realize.”


    Kole swallowed hard, his throat dry. “You’re… you’re not going to kill me, right?”


    Thorne chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Not if you keep cooperating. But remember, Kole—our patience has limits. Do as you’re told, and you’ll remain intact.”


    Auron, still pacing like a restless predator, growled low in his throat. “If he tries anything, I won’t wait next time.”


    Laurent shot Auron a warning look before crouching down in front of Kole. “You’ve made the right choice,” he said, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of danger. “Don’t make us regret giving you the chance to cooperate.”


    Kole nodded numbly, his mind spinning. He didn’t know what terrified him more—the hunger in their eyes, or the realization that his life now belonged entirely to them.


    Over the next week, Kole found himself confined to the opulent room, the chains around his wrists replaced with an ornate cuff that glimmered faintly with magic. It allowed him to move freely within the room but sent a sharp, searing pain through his body if he got too close to the door or windows. He had tried once—just once—to test its limits, and the resulting agony left him curled on the floor for hours.


    Food and water were brought to him by two servants, a man and a woman, both dressed in simple but elegant uniforms. They moved silently, their eyes downcast, setting trays on the small table near the room’s centerpiece—a grand, canopied bed that felt more like a prison throne.


    Each time they entered, Kole tried to get answers.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    “Where are they?” he asked the first day, his voice hoarse. “The ones who brought me here—where did they go?”


    The servants froze, their eyes darting toward the door as though expecting one of them to appear at any moment. Without a word, they set the tray down and hurried out, the door clicking shut behind them.


    The same thing happened the next day.


    “Why are you so scared of them?” Kole pressed, desperation creeping into his tone. The servants exchanged a nervous glance but remained silent. Their hands trembled as they placed his meal on the table, and they left even faster than before.


    By the third day, Kole began referring to the vampires only as “them.”


    “When are they coming back?” he asked, his frustration mounting. The servants didn’t answer. The woman’s hand slipped, nearly spilling the pitcher of water, but she quickly steadied it, her face pale.


    “You’re not allowed to talk about them, are you?” Kole said bitterly as they fled the room again.


    Each night, Kole sat by the window, staring out at the sprawling forest that surrounded the mansion. The silence was deafening, and the questions in his mind only grew louder. Why had they left him here alone? Why hadn’t they come to drain his blood or demand more from him?


    What were they waiting for?


    On the seventh day, Kole finally reached his breaking point. When the servants arrived, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the marble floor. They flinched, but he didn’t care.


    “You’re going to tell me what’s going on,” he demanded, his voice rising. “Why am I here? Why are you so scared of them? Where are they?”


    The man, visibly shaking, refused to meet Kole’s eyes. The woman stammered, “W-we’re just here to bring food. That’s all we’re allowed to do.”


    “Allowed by who?” Kole pressed, stepping closer. They backed away in unison, panic etched on their faces.


    “I—I’m sorry,” the woman whispered before bolting for the door. The man followed without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place once again sealed Kole’s fate.


    Kole sank back into his chair, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “What the hell is going on?” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the empty room.


    That night, the air in the room felt different—heavier, colder. Kole lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. As sleep began to pull at him, he thought he heard faint whispers, like voices carried on the wind.


    His eyes snapped open, his heart pounding. The whispers were growing louder, clearer.


    And then, just as suddenly as they began, they stopped.


    Kole sat up, his pulse racing, the silence now more oppressive than ever. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the thought that he might be imagining things, or the certainty that they were back.


    the door creaks open.


    Kole’s body stiffened as three figures entered the room. It was them.


    Thorne was the first to step into the dim light, his movements as smooth and deliberate as ever. His regal bearing made it clear he was in control. Laurent followed, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint that sent a shiver down Kole’s spine. Auron lingered near the door, his sharp gaze sweeping the room like a wolf searching for prey.


    “You’ve been behaving yourself,” Thorne said, his tone as cold and cutting as ice. “Good.”


    “Where the hell have you been?” Kole snapped before he could stop himself. Weeks of isolation and unanswered questions boiled over, giving him a reckless edge.


    Laurent arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Bold of you to think you’re entitled to an explanation.”


    “Do you have any idea how—” Kole started, but Auron cut him off with a low growl.


    “Watch your tone,” Auron snarled, stepping forward, his towering presence making Kole instinctively shrink back. “We don’t owe you anything, human.”


    “Enough,” Thorne said, raising a hand. Auron stopped but didn’t retreat, his crimson eyes fixed on Kole with barely restrained aggression.


    Kole’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but the intensity of their presence smothered his defiance.


    “You’ve been patient, Kole,” Thorne continued, his voice softening just slightly, though it still held a dangerous edge. “That’s good. We needed time to… prepare.”


    “Prepare for what?” Kole asked warily, his voice quieter now.


    Laurent stepped closer, his movements impossibly graceful. “For the ritual, of course,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Your blood is too potent to waste. It must be drawn with precision and purpose.”


    Kole’s stomach churned. “What… what kind of ritual?”


    Auron’s grin was sharp and cruel. “The kind that makes us unstoppable.”


    Thorne shot Auron a look before turning back to Kole. “Your role is simple: compliance. If you cooperate, this will be… manageable for you.”


    “And if I don’t?” Kole asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.


    Laurent’s smile widened, revealing a glint of fang. “Then we’ll take what we need by force. And trust me, you won’t enjoy that.”


    Kole swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “Why now? Why wait a week?”


    Thorne exchanged a glance with the other two, as if deciding how much to reveal. Finally, he spoke. “Your blood isn’t just powerful—it’s volatile. If taken incorrectly, it could destroy us instead of strengthening us. We needed time to ensure the ritual is… flawless.”


    Laurent crouched down to Kole’s level, his eyes narrowing. “You should feel honored. Your blood is a gift, one that will elevate us to heights you can’t even imagine.”


    “I didn’t ask for this,” Kole muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.


    “And yet, here you are,” Thorne said, his tone devoid of sympathy. “Fate chose you, Kole. Now, embrace it—or suffer for resisting.”


    The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of their words sinking in. Kole’s mind raced, trying to find a way out, but every door seemed closed, every option a dead end.


    The ritual was coming. And there was no escape.