When we arrived in Edinburgh, the first thing we did was meet with Baba. She was at yet another Red Moon Club. Apparently, she was planning on establishing a hub for her operations in some European capital so she could resume operations quickly after Naran closed her main club in Babel.

Baba greeted us with a warm embrace, and I could tell that she was overjoyed to see us again. We told her about the letter and my decision to head to Paris for a confrontation with Dario.

“You all have my admiration,” Baba said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It takes courage to face Queen Naran.”

She looked at Viktor and me each in turn, something like pride shining in her eyes. “Let me do something for you before you go: I will arrange a special meal for you both. Would you be eating together?" she asked.

Viktor and I looked at each other uncomfortably. I desperately wanted to say yes, but Viktor cleared his throat before replying.

"We will feed separately, thank you," he said firmly.

I felt a sudden pang in my heart; he did not want us to have sex and feed together like we had done in the past. Why would he refuse me that way? Just when things seemed to improve between us, he pushed me away again.

Baba saw the disappointment on my face, but all she said was “Very well, then I will arrange for you two to be fed separately.” She snapped her fingers and a few of her employees appeared beside us, ready to take me away to my private room where I could feed alone.

I looked back at Viktor one last time before being taken away and saw that he was looking at me with a mixture of pity and sadness.

In the room, I waited for my dinner to arrive while reflecting on what had happened between us in the past few days. We had shared such intense moments, both physically and emotionally, yet now it felt like there was something blocking us from connecting again - like an invisible wall standing between us. My thoughts were interrupted when my dinner arrived.

Baba entered my room accompanied by an olive-skinned man with an exotic name, who towered over me. He was breathtaking in his beauty, and I was in awe of him the second I saw him, the instant that Baba brought him into my room.

“Bon appétit,” Baba said to me, before leaving us on our own.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in a thick, Mediterranean accent, the precise origin of which I could not decipher.

“As are you,” I responded in as sultry a voice as I could manage.

I watched as he disrobed and I did the same. He really was stunning, astonishingly, breathtakingly so, and I wondered how he would look as a vampire. I bit my lip as I observed his naked body, muscular yet lean, with broad shoulders and an ass that was perfectly round. I smelled the sandalwood of his cologne, peppered with the hint of sweat.

Once we were both finished undressing, he walked straight up to me and kissed me. I tasted the faintest trace of wine. Our lips mingled with each other’s, dancing a waltz of our lust, and when he pulled away, I felt slightly disappointed. That didn’t last very long; he grabbed my thighs and lifted me, wrapping them around my waist. My fangs began to descend, tingling with anticipation. I wanted his blood; I could smell it, coursing through his veins. I could hear the beating of his heart, feel his pulse against my skin.

“Don’t be shy,” he murmured in that beautiful accent. “Bite me.”

Just then, I felt him inching into me. Unable to contain myself, I sank my fangs into his neck. He groaned, his arms holding me tighter as he sank all the way into me. The high-pitched cry that was released from my lips mingled with his baritone groan, forming a symphony of our arousal.

He fucked me rough and hard, every thrust hitting against my cervix, while I drank from him, and listening to how mad he sounded, I knew that he was getting just as much pleasure from this encounter as I was.

Soon, I released him from my jaws; he took that as an opportunity to lay me down on the bed, grab my hips, and start fucking me once more.

“Oh, God, that’s good,” I gasped as he pumped in and out of me. He moved one hand to rub my clitoris, toying with the tiny nub quickly, bringing me to orgasm. My back arched away from the bed as I came, and he quickly took the hand he was using to pleasure me and moved his wrist to my mouth for me to sink my fangs into him once more. And I did; the sudden taste of blood drove me to orgasm yet again, my cunt clenching on his cock.

“Oh, God!” I cried out, muffled by his wrist in my mouth, calling for the very creator whom the events of my life had led me to doubt. But I didn’t care; at that moment, all I could think about, all I could feel was pleasure.

He orgasmed after I did, and the feeling of him shooting his seed inside of me led me to climax once more. But this time, I did not think of this man as I orgasmed; no, I thought of Viktor. Him fucking me. Him coming inside me. And I wished more than anything else that it was him doing this to me. By the time the handsome foreigner was done with me, I was panting, breathless with lust and arousal.

There was no cuddling, no time spent with each other; he simply wiped the blood off himself and left.

I went to find Viktor not long after in his room, to see if he was still fucking, still seeking pleasure from someone who wasn’t me. And when I found him, he was doing exactly that. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see him fucking a female, brunette, human sheep, thrusting in and out of her madly from behind while drinking from her neck. I felt jealousy, yes, but I couldn’t help but feel aroused as I watched. I tried to convince myself that he enjoyed fucking me more than he did her, but I couldn’t quite get myself to fully believe it.

That night, I masturbated to the memory of what I saw, but with me in her place.

The following night, we set off once more. Our first destination was London, then we would head to Paris. Our trip was full of anticipation, and Viktor and Raoul led the way and took care of everything. We had to be careful not to be discovered by humans but the travel was mostly uneventful.

Each night, I would finish with my meal before Viktor did, and each night, I would watch him fucking someone else. If I couldn’t watch, I would listen. More and more, a question burned itself into my mind, a question that I realised I might not want the answer to. Still, one night, as we stayed in a hotel just after getting off the boat to France, I decided to ask him.

I knocked on his door once; he called for me to enter.

“Good evening,” I said to him as he lay on his bed.

“Good evening.”

“I have a question,” I said, before pausing. He nodded in encouragement. “Do you enjoy fucking the other women the way you like fucking me?”

His eyes narrowed at me, his demeanour becoming cold. Frigid, even.

“What an asinine question,” he hissed at me.

“Asinine? Asinine? It is a legitimate question! As your wife, I should know the answer!”

I felt a mix of rage and sadness. I could hear him breathing hard and fast, a mix of a wild beast's growl and a hurricane's roar. His fangs curved over his lips, a display of a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

“You’re right,” he told me. “You should know the answer.”

“I don’t.”

“I know you watch me fucking,” he informed me. “So compare my mannerisms while I was fucking them to while I fucked you.”

“They seem the same to me,” I replied, fighting back the tears.

“Then you’re blind.” And as he said that he turned his face away from me but I wouldn't allow it. I approached him and sat in the bed with him, forcing him to look at me.

“Why do you reject me?! Why do you treat me like this?! I love you!” I cried. “Why must every man I love reject me?”

“Because I do not wish to be taken advantage of again!” he shouted, getting up from the bed and away from me again.

I frowned; someone took advantage of Viktor? The thought filled me with anger.

“Who was it?” I asked him. “Who took advantage of you?” He remained silent, saying nothing. “Viktor?” Still nothing. “Was it Naran?” I asked him.

“I would rather not speak of it,” was all he said. “And you don’t love me.”

“Yes, I do—”

“No, Lucy. You don’t. Vampires always feel a sense of devotion to their begetter, the vampire who turned them..." He paused briefly, and I felt his demeanour changing from tense anger to a bottomless melancholy. I remembered him playing the violin in the manor and looking at the moon like there was nothing in the world that could fill his emptiness.

"That's what I felt for Naran," he continued. "I still feel it in her presence. That's why I could not refuse her orders, the reason why I could never defeat her. And that's what you feel for me. It isn’t love..."

His words pierced my heart and filled me with dread. I had been so certain of my love for him, yet now he was making me question my feelings. He was all I could think about. Why was he making me doubt myself?

"And besides, how could you love me after what I’ve done to you?" he asked me, grabbing me by the arm. His smell was intoxicating and we were so close I wanted to kiss him to shut him up but I contained myself. "I’ve ruined you. You’re damned because of me.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts. “You can never see the sunlight again, your family is in danger, everything is because of me. What you think you’re feeling for me is not real.”

I was left speechless as tears threatened to fall. I was devastated, his words felt like needles in my skin and made me realise how short-lived my joy had been. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong and that my love was real, but the words refused to come out of my mouth. All I could do was stare at him in disbelief before he walked away from me, leaving the room without saying anything else.