The lies came first.

  They ran through my head in a desperate, frantic rush, the kind people tell themselves when they're already too deep to turn back.

  I don't want this.

  I hate him.

  He's a bad man.

  Each thought tried to stand its ground, like if I repeated them enough they would somehow become true again.

  But the truth was standing right behind me, one hand gripping my waist, the other still resting against my neck as Cazaro's breath brushed slowly across my skin.

  The lies didn't matter.

  Not anymore.

  The moment his teeth sank in, there was a sharp sting—quick and bright, like the snap of a needle breaking skin.

  For a split second my body tensed.

  Then the world tilted.

  The pain vanished almost immediately, swallowed by something else entirely. A warm rush spread through my chest, spilling out into my arms and legs like liquid heat.

  Euphoria.

  There wasn't another word for it.

  The sensation rolled through me in waves, stronger with every passing second. My thoughts blurred together, dissolving into something softer, heavier.

  A sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

  A quiet moan.

  Cazaro felt it instantly.

  I felt his smile against my neck.

  His fingers dug into my sides, not painfully, but firm enough to keep me steady as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

  "See?" he murmured softly against my skin.

  The sound of his voice only made the warmth flood through me faster.

  I should have hated this.

  I should have fought him.

  Instead my body leaned back into him without thinking, chasing the strange, intoxicating pull spreading through every nerve.

  And somewhere in the back of my mind, the lies I had told myself crumbled quietly, one by one.

  He drank deeply.

  I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, in the steady pull at my neck as he held me close. Instead of fear, another wave of warmth spread through me, stronger than before, lifting me somewhere light and distant.

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  The more he drank, the higher I felt.

  My thoughts drifted further away, like they belonged to someone else entirely. The room, the plan, the reason I had come here—all of it faded behind the strange, intoxicating rush moving through my body.

  For a moment I barely noticed when he slowed.

  Then he pulled back.

  The sudden absence of that pull made the room tilt slightly, my head still swimming in the lingering haze. Before I could fully process it, his lips brushed my neck again, softer this time, tracing along the place where his teeth had been.

  A shiver ran through me.

  He moved lower, his touch gentle now, and I realized just how far gone my thoughts had become. My body leaned into him without thinking, chasing the warmth and closeness like it was the only steady thing in the room.

  My hand lifted almost on its own.

  My fingers brushed across his chest, the fabric of his shirt smooth beneath them. The material was soft—silk, maybe—and it slid easily under my fingertips as I tried to steady myself.

  The contact made him pause for a second.

  I barely noticed.

  I was still floating somewhere between the rush in my veins and the quiet sound of his breathing close beside me, the world reduced to warmth, touch, and the strange, dizzy calm that had taken hold of me.

  His eyes found mine.

  They were completely black now.

  The color that had once been there was gone, swallowed by darkness that should have terrified me. Every story I'd ever heard about vampires said this was the moment to be afraid.

  But I wasn't.

  If anything, the sight of him like that made something inside me settle. The panic that should have been there never came. Instead there was only the strange calm spreading through my body, soft and heavy.

  His lips were still close to my skin, and when he lifted his head I saw the faint smear of my blood along the edge of his mouth.

  His fangs were longer now too.

  More obvious.

  More dangerous.

  But none of that felt frightening in the moment.

  What I did notice was the way his hand still held my side, the weight of it steady but firm, like he was keeping me upright. My legs felt weak, and the room tilted slightly when I shifted.

  The dizziness was getting stronger.

  For the first time since the rush began, worry crept into the haze.

  I blinked slowly, trying to focus on him.

  "Caz..." I started.

  But the word came out wrong.

  Thick.

  Slurred.

  Like I'd had far too much to drink.

  His expression changed immediately.

  "Fuck," he whispered.

  The word was quiet, almost under his breath, but the tension behind it cut through the fog in my mind.

  His grip tightened slightly at my side as he looked at me more closely now, his dark eyes scanning my face like he was suddenly measuring something very carefully.

  And the calm that had wrapped around me began to shift into something else.His grip steadied me when the room tilted again.

  "I got a bit carried away," he said quietly, his voice lower now, the sharp edge from earlier gone. "Sorry about that, love."

  I blinked slowly at him.

  The words didn't quite land the way they should have. My mind felt thick, like it was trying to push through fog. Instead of answering, I just frowned faintly, my brows pulling together in confusion.

  He noticed.

  Of course he did.

  Cazaro exhaled softly, running a hand briefly through his hair before looking back down at me.

  "Sleep," he said.

  The command was gentle, but firm.

  "You'll need it."

  I shook my head slightly, trying to stay upright. The motion made the room sway again.

  "I'm... not tired," I muttered, though even I could hear how weak the words sounded.

  It didn't matter.

  My body betrayed me anyway.

  The moment I shifted back onto the couch, the softness beneath me pulled me down, and my eyelids grew heavy almost instantly. The warmth from earlier had turned into something deeper now, something that wrapped around my muscles and dragged at my thoughts.

  Before I could fight it, I was already sinking into the cushions.

  My eyes closed.

  Somewhere close to me, I heard Cazaro move.

  The couch dipped again as he leaned over slightly, his voice low enough that it brushed against my fading awareness.

  "You are so desperate to please me," he murmured.

  There was a quiet amusement in his tone.

  "So easy to manipulate."

  The words should have sounded cruel.

  But the warmth still lingering in my body softened them into something distant, almost unreal.

  Then he gave a quiet, almost breathless laugh.

  "I fucking love it."

  His voice faded as the darkness pulled me under.