Cazaro moved first.

  He crossed the room with the kind of easy confidence that made it feel like the space belonged entirely to him. Reaching the small table near the couch, he lifted a bottle and a glass without even glancing back at me.

  "Drink?" he asked casually.

  The glass caught the soft lamp light as he poured. The liquid inside was pale—almost gold—far lighter than the dark red wines I usually saw in restaurants.

  He held it out to me.

  For a moment I hesitated.

  My nerves had been sitting tight in my chest ever since we stepped into the room. Every part of me felt tense, like I was waiting for something bad to happen.

  Maybe a drink would help.

  I stepped closer and took the glass from his hand.

  "Thank you," I murmured.

  Cazaro leaned back against the edge of the table, folding his arms loosely as he watched me. The look in his eyes wasn't warm or welcoming.

  It was amused.

  Studying.

  Like he had already decided something about me and was waiting to see if I proved him right.

  I lifted the glass and took a sip.

  The wine was smooth and slightly sweet, warmer than I expected. It slid down easily, leaving a soft warmth in my chest.

  My nerves still buzzed under my skin.

  So I took another sip.

  Then another.

  Before I really thought about it, I tilted the glass back and finished the entire thing.

  The empty glass lowered slowly from my lips.

  For a second the room was silent.

  Then Cazaro laughed.

  Not loudly.

  But the sound carried a sharp edge of amusement that made heat rush to my face.

  "Well," he said, pushing himself off the table. "Someone was thirsty."

  I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how quickly I'd downed the drink.

  "I was nervous," I admitted.

  His mouth tilted slightly at one corner.

  "Yes," he said dryly. "That part was obvious."

  He took the empty glass from my hand and set it back on the table, his fingers brushing mine briefly as he did.

  "You don't drink much, do you?" he added.

  I shook my head.

  "Not really."

  "Clearly."

  His dark eyes moved over me again, slow and deliberate, taking in the dress, the tension still lingering in my shoulders, the way I shifted slightly under his gaze.

  "You're trying very hard," he said.

  "To what?" I asked.

  "To pretend you belong here."

  The words landed softly, but they hit harder than if he'd said them sharply.

  My stomach tightened.

  Cazaro watched my reaction closely, clearly enjoying the discomfort.

  He tilted his head slightly, studying my face.

  "You're nervous," he said.

  "I told you that."

  "Yes," he replied calmly. "But nervous in an interesting way."

  I frowned slightly.

  "What does that mean?"

  A faint smirk appeared.

  "It means," he said slowly, "you're trying not to run."

  The warmth from the wine had started spreading through my chest now, loosening the tight knot of worry that had been sitting there all night.

  I hated that he could see through me so easily.

  "You like this, don't you?" I muttered.

  "Like what?"

  "Making me uncomfortable."

  His smirk widened.

  "Oh, absolutely."

  He stepped a little closer, close enough that the faint scent of wine and something darker clung to the air between us.

  "Nervous people are honest," he continued.

  His voice lowered slightly.

  "And honesty," he said, "is very entertaining."

  Cazaro watched me for another long moment after that, the faint smirk still resting on his mouth like he was enjoying every second of my discomfort.

  I shifted my weight slightly under his gaze.

  "You're staring," I muttered.

  "Of course I am."

  His tone was matter-of-fact.

  "You walked into a vampire den dressed like temptation and now you're surprised someone's looking at you."

  Heat crept into my cheeks.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "I didn't dress like this for you."

  "No," he said, pushing off the table again. "You dressed like this because you're desperate."

  The word rolled off his tongue smoothly, like he was testing it.

  I swallowed.

  "That's what girls come here for, isn't it?" he continued, stepping closer again. "Money. Safety. A little protection if they're lucky."

  His hand lifted, brushing lightly along the side of my arm.

  The touch was casual.

  But it made my stomach flip anyway.

  "And yet," he added, his voice lowering slightly, "you still look like you're waiting for someone to tell you it's a mistake."

  His fingers trailed slowly down my arm before falling away.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but the words didn't come.

  He noticed.

  Of course he did.

  A soft laugh escaped him.

  "Poor thing," he said.

  The words sounded almost sympathetic... but the amusement in his eyes gave him away.

  "You look terrified."

  "I'm not terrified," I said quickly.

  "No?"

  He turned away from me then, walking slowly across the room toward the couch.

  Something about the way he moved made it impossible not to follow him with my eyes.

  And then my feet.

  The wine had warmed my chest enough that my thoughts felt slightly slower, softer around the edges. When he sat down and gestured lazily toward the seat beside him, I found myself moving toward him without thinking too hard about it.

  He noticed that too.

  "Good," he said quietly. "You're learning."

  "Learning what?"

  "How to listen."

  I frowned faintly but sat down anyway.

  The couch dipped slightly under my weight.

  Cazaro leaned forward, reaching for the bottle again.

  "You drank that first glass like someone trying to drown a problem," he said as he poured another.

  "I was nervous."

  "Yes," he replied dryly. "You mentioned."

  He handed me the second glass.

  I hesitated this time.

  His eyebrow lifted.

  "What?" he asked.

  "You're watching me like you expect something."

  "I do."

  "And what's that?"

  He leaned back against the couch, one arm resting along the back behind me.

  "That you'll do it again."

  I looked down at the pale wine swirling in the glass.

  The warmth in my chest had already softened the tight knot of anxiety that had been twisting there all night.

  Maybe another drink would help.

  So I took a sip.

  Cazaro watched me the entire time.

  The silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again.

  "You're doing very well," he said.

  I blinked.

  "That sounded almost like a compliment."

  "It was."

  His gaze moved slowly over my face, thoughtful now instead of mocking.

  "You walked into a room full of predators," he continued. "Most humans would have turned around at the door."

  I shrugged slightly.

  "I needed the money."

  A faint smile returned.

  "And yet," he said softly, "you're still shaking."

  I hadn't realized I was until he pointed it out.

  My fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

  Cazaro's hand lifted again, this time brushing lightly against my shoulder before sliding up to rest briefly along the side of my neck.

  The same place Airis had touched earlier.

  The contact made my head feel strangely light again.

  "There it is," he murmured.

  "What?"

  "That nervous look."

  His thumb brushed once along the edge of my jaw.

  "You think it makes you look weak."

  I swallowed.

  "Doesn't it?"

  He studied me for a moment longer.

  Then he shook his head slightly.

  "No."

  His voice softened just enough to make the word feel different.

  "It makes you interesting."

  I looked away first.

  His eyes had that same heavy focus they'd had in the newsroom, the kind that made it feel like he was seeing more than I meant to show. The praise he'd just given sat awkwardly in my chest, tangled with everything else he'd said before it.

  Weak.

  Desperate.

  Interesting.

  My gaze drifted down toward the glass in my hand instead, watching the pale wine move slightly as my fingers shifted.

  Beside me, Cazaro moved.

  Not much. Just enough that the couch shifted faintly under his weight.

  Then his hand lifted again.

  This time it didn't brush past my shoulder or trail down my arm.

  It settled around the back of my neck.

  Not tight.

  Not even close to choking.

  Just resting there, his palm warm against my skin, his fingers curving loosely along the side of my throat.

  My pulse jumped instantly under the contact.

  Cazaro felt it.

  Of course he did.

  His thumb shifted slightly where it rested near my jaw, the smallest movement, but it made my heart beat even faster.

  "Well," he murmured quietly, almost amused.

  I glanced back up despite myself.

  His eyes had changed.

  The dark pupils were wider now, dilated enough that the lighter color around them looked almost swallowed by the black.

  It wasn't anger.

  It wasn't even the teasing edge he'd been using before.

  It looked more like... interest.

  "You see?" he said softly.

  My brow furrowed slightly. "See what?"

  His thumb brushed once more along the side of my jaw, slow and deliberate.

  "That," he replied.

  My pulse jumped again under his hand.

  "You react to everything."

  I tried to ignore the warmth spreading up my neck.

  "That's a normal human response."

  "Exactly."

  The corner of his mouth tilted slightly.

  "You're very human."

  There was something about the way he said it that made it sound almost... approving.

  His hand didn't tighten around my neck, but it didn't leave either. It simply rested there like he had claimed that small space as his own.

  The room around us stayed quiet, the low music from outside muffled through the walls.

  I became painfully aware of how close he was sitting.

  Of the warmth of his body beside mine.

  Of the way his gaze kept drifting over my face like he was studying every reaction I had.

  "You're thinking again," he said.

  "I always think."

  "That's unfortunate."

  I frowned slightly. "Why?"

  "Because you look calmer when you stop."

  His fingers shifted faintly against my neck.

  "Like earlier."

  I knew what he meant.

  The fog.

  The strange softness in my head when Airis touched me.

  The moment where the fear had disappeared completely.

  But this felt different.

  "You did something to the drink," I said quietly.

  Cazaro's eyebrow lifted slightly.

  "That's an accusation."

  "Is it wrong?"

  He didn't answer right away.

  Instead his gaze stayed fixed on mine, that same faint smirk hovering just at the edge of his mouth.

  Finally he said, "You drank it very enthusiastically."

  I exhaled slowly.

  "You're impossible."

  "And yet," he replied calmly, "you're still sitting here."

  But this felt different.

  For a moment neither of us moved.

  His hand was still resting loosely around the back of my neck, his thumb brushing faintly against my skin every so often like he was testing the rhythm of my pulse. My heart still hadn't settled from the way it had jumped earlier, and I knew he could feel every beat of it.

  Cazaro watched me quietly, that same focused look in his eyes.

  Then he leaned in.

  The movement was slow enough that I saw it coming, but not slow enough for me to decide what to do about it. His other hand lifted slightly, steadying himself against the couch beside me as the distance between us disappeared.

  His lips met mine.

  For a second my mind went completely blank.

  He tasted different than Airis had—cooler, sharper. There was the faint taste of mint, like crushed leaves, something clean and unexpected against the warmth of the wine still lingering on my tongue.

  The kiss wasn't rushed.

  But it wasn't gentle either.

  He tilted his head slightly, deepening it just enough that my breath caught in my chest. My fingers tightened slightly around the empty glass still in my hand before I finally set it down on the table beside the couch.

  His hand tightened just a little around the back of my neck as he kissed me again, guiding the angle without forcing it.

  Then his teeth caught my lower lip.

  A quick, deliberate nip.

  The sharp sting made me inhale softly, and I tasted something faint and metallic.

  Copper.

  The moment the taste hit my tongue, Cazaro froze.

  A low sound escaped him before he could stop it—something halfway between a breath and a groan.

  His grip on my neck tightened for a brief second before he pulled back just enough to look at me.

  His pupils were wider now.

  Much wider.

  And the way he was looking at me had changed completely.

  His eyes were darker now.

  Not just shadowed by the low light in the room, but darker in a way that made my stomach twist. The brown I had noticed before was nearly gone, swallowed by pupils that had widened until they looked almost black.

  He was still looking at me.

  Still holding me there with that loose grip around the back of my neck.

  My mind started racing.

  Every warning I had ever heard about vampires pushed forward at once. Every rumor. Every whispered story about what happened when they lost control.

  I should have pulled away.

  I should have said something.

  Instead, the moment he leaned down again and pressed his lips to the side of my neck, everything changed.

  The touch sent a slow warmth through my body, softening the panic before it could fully take hold. His breath brushed against my skin, cool compared to the heat building under it.

  The racing thoughts in my head tangled together and began slipping away.

  I felt his lips move slightly against my neck, the faint scrape of his teeth barely grazing my skin again.

  My pulse jumped hard under his mouth.

  And suddenly the words slipped out before I could stop them.

  "Please take from me."

  The moment I said it, a small part of my mind tried to protest.

  But the thought was weak.

  Distant.

  Cazaro didn't move right away.

  Instead I felt the curve of his mouth against my skin.

  A smirk.

  "You beg so nicely," he murmured.

  His voice vibrated faintly against my neck.

  I swallowed, the warmth in my head growing thicker, heavier.

  Then he added, softer this time,

  "It's almost pathetic."

  But the way he said it didn't sound like an insult.

  It sounded like he liked it.