Fated to the Vampire Prince

Chapter 2

The kiss lingered, lingering like the taste of something sweet but poisoned. Claire’s heart thundered in her chest, her pulse erratic as she felt herself being pulled deeper into the storm. His hands were everywhere—gentle at first, tracing the lines of her shoulders, the curve of her waist—but soon, his touch became more insistent, more demanding. He wasn’t just kissing her; he was claiming her, body and soul, and it felt as though there was no escape from the pull of it.

The cool night air kissed her skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat that blazed between them, a fire that threatened to consume her whole. She should pull away, she should step back, remind herself of everything that had brought her here: the mission, the secrets, the lies. But as his lips moved over her skin, over her neck, that fire spread, and her body betrayed her. She wasn’t just here to learn the vampire prince’s secrets—she was here to survive, to protect herself, to protect her sister.

But in this moment, surrounded by the dizzying intoxication of his touch and the haunting allure of his presence, Claire could feel herself slipping.

Bastien’s mouth was at her throat now, his lips brushing over the delicate skin beneath her ear, sending waves of electric pleasure through her. She inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the stone railing as though it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.

"You don’t know what you’re doing," Claire breathed, her voice thick with desire, confusion, and something darker she couldn’t name. "This... this isn’t who I am."

He paused, just for a heartbeat, his lips still pressed to her skin, as though savoring her words. "I think it’s exactly who you are, Claire," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. His gaze was a storm—passionate, predatory, and full of an ancient knowledge she couldn’t understand. "You’re lying to yourself if you think otherwise. You crave this. You crave me."

The words hit her like a physical blow, and she staggered back, a sob caught in her throat. She hated him. Hated what he represented. He was everything she despised—the monster, the prince, the vampire who had played with so many lives without a second thought. And yet, here she was, trembling in his arms, unable to pull herself away.

"Stop," she whispered, but the word was barely a plea. She was lost, adrift in a sea of emotions that had no name.

Bastien’s smile was slow, calculated, as though he knew exactly the effect he had on her. "I don’t think you want me to stop," he whispered, his hand finding the curve of her back and pulling her toward him once more.

Her body responded without hesitation, her hands pressing against his chest, the cold of his skin contrasting sharply with the heat of her own. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and unyielding, beneath the smoothness of his skin, and for a moment, she felt the bitter pang of something deep inside her—the undeniable pull of something f*******n.

But this was wrong. She knew it was wrong.

Bastien leaned in again, this time his lips brushing over her cheek, his breath a warm promise against her ear. "I don’t care what you came for, Claire. I am your destiny now. And you will never escape me."

His words were like a curse, wrapping around her heart and squeezing, until all she could hear, all she could feel, was him.

A tear slipped down her cheek, unbidden, as she stared up at him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout at him to leave her alone, to make him understand that she had no interest in being a part of his cruel game. But the words caught in her throat, swallowed by the overwhelming need that pulsed between them.

She needed him. And it terrified her.

"I’m not like them," she whispered, the words barely audible, but they were the truth. "I’m not like the others you’ve seduced. I won’t let you control me."

But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. It was already too late for her.

Bastien’s smile softened, just for a moment, and in that brief instant, he looked almost... human. His fingers traced the line of her jaw with the gentleness of a lover, but there was something darker in his touch, something that felt like a warning.

"You say that now," he said softly, his voice low and rich, like dark honey. "But in time, you will understand. I don’t need to control you, Claire. You’ll want to be mine. You’ll want to be consumed by me."

She needed him. And it terrified her.

"I’m not like them," she whispered, the words barely audible, but they were the truth. "I’m not like the others you’ve seduced. I won’t let you control me."

But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. It was already too late for her.

Bastien’s smile softened, just for a moment, and in that brief instant, he looked almost... human. His fingers traced the line of her jaw with the gentleness of a lover, but there was something darker in his touch, something that felt like a warning.

"You say that now," he said softly, his voice low and rich, like dark honey. "But in time, you will understand. I don’t need to control you, Claire. You’ll want to be mine. You’ll want to be consumed by me."

Claire’s chest ached as if a heavy weight had settled in her heart, a weight that had nothing to do with physical pain and everything to do with the tragic truth of his words. She would want him. She already did. She was already drowning in him, her thoughts muddled, her emotions twisted, and she could feel the pieces of herself breaking away with every touch, every kiss, every stolen moment of intimacy.

And as much as she hated it, part of her welcomed it.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What do you want from me?"

Bastien’s eyes flickered with something dark and ancient, a secret he wasn’t ready to reveal. "You are more than you realize, Claire. And when you’re ready, you’ll understand just how much you need me."

His lips pressed to her forehead, a soft, intimate gesture that made her heart ache in a way she didn’t understand. She had no right to want him—no right to be here, wrapped in his embrace, lost in his world. And yet, she couldn’t tear herself away.

The moment stretched on, timeless, a cruel mockery of the choice she had once believed she had. This wasn’t what she had planned. This wasn’t part of the mission. But now, standing on the edge of this f*******n precipice, Claire understood one thing: there was no going back.

She was already falling, and Bastien was the one who would catch her.The moment stretched on, timeless, a cruel mockery of the choice she had once believed she had. This wasn’t what she had planned. This wasn’t part of the mission. But now, standing on the edge of this f*******n precipice, Claire understood one thing: there was no going back.

She was already falling, and Bastien was the one who would catch her.

The night grew colder, the distant sounds of the ballroom echoing like a faint memory. Claire closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her decision settle over her like a shroud. She had chosen this path. Whether she realized it or not, this was where fate had led her.

And as she opened her eyes once more, meeting Bastien’s gaze, she saw the darkness there—a promise, a warning, and a cruel truth that she would never be able to outrun.

"I won’t leave you," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous, a vow that sent chills down her spine. "Not ever."

And Claire realized, with a twisted sense of inevitability, that neither would she.