Page 7 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

She blinked, eyes darting over his face. He knew what she would see. The silvery white strands of his hair, his sharp vampiric features, the way his eyes were flooded black with bloodlust. Bloodlust for her. He was barely hanging on by a thread.

For a moment, there was only silence between them. Then⁠—

She burst into raucous laughter, making him flinch. “Wow. You’re good. You’re really good. Taegan, right? From Shadowlands?”

His hunger fractured. He released her face like it had burned him. “Shadowlands?”

“The elf king. Taegan. You’re cosplaying him and this is all a rescue act.” She giggled making her face light up. He stared, transfixed, unable to look elsewhere. “Holy shit! I’m supposed to be the damsel in distress! Wait. Is this being filmed? Is that why you knocked Daniel out? Are there cameras in here⁠—?”

“Enough,” he snarled. Humans and their fucking television.

The smile vanished from her face. She stared at him and something shifted in her expression. “This is a joke, right?” Her voice was smaller now, uncertain.

“The only joke,” he bit out, “is that you would insult me so thoroughly. Come. We are leaving.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out into the hallway. She stumbled after him.

“Wait, stop. What are you…? You’re hurting me. Let go!”

He didn’t respond, but he did loosen his grip to avoid bruising her. She whimpered, stumbling after him in her heels. “Okay. Okay! I don’t want to play anymore. Let me go! Seriously.”

He dragged her down the hallway toward the stairs. As they reached the top of the grand staircase, the party came into full view—and they came into view of the party.

“Stop!” she shouted, growing frantic, twisting and pulling against him. “Someone—make this guy stop!”

Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Then the excitement exploded.

“Holy shit, is that Taegan?” someone shouted from below.

“This is incredible! Are you filming this?”

“Kase never told us there’d be live entertainment!”

Phones appeared everywhere throughout the crowd, people angling for the best shots as Laurent began dragging her down the stairs. Her desperate struggle only made them cheer louder, treating it like the performance of a lifetime.

Her voice cut off. Then her knees buckled. He was ready for that trick. He spun, catching her up in his arms. He caught a glimpse of her wide, blue eyes before carefully tossing her over his shoulder. The crowd below went feral.

“Ania!” she screamed, beating her fists against his back, struggling to squirm free. “Ania, help me!”

“This is going viral!” someone shouted.

“Best party ever!”

He let out a dark chuckle but said nothing, stepping off the stairs and striding through the mansion. Phones tracked his every movement, people stepping aside to get better angles. Her screams lifted over the thumping music, but not a single person tried to stop them. And that’s how he hauled her right through the front door, past hundreds of partygoers who all thought they were witnessing the entertainment event of the year.

3

No amount of screaming, struggling, or pounding fists would save me. I fought my captor the way I’d fought the ocean current just that morning, with every muscle, every breath, every fiber. It didn’t matter. My efforts were useless.

He stopped walking just outside the gates of the Yoshiki mansion. Not a single person had helped me. Not a single one. They’d all thought it was some entertaining joke.

Bile clawed up my throat, gagging me.

He set me on my feet, hand gripping the back of my neck. I stumbled, but his arms kept me upright. He buried his face against my throat, inhaling before groaning. “Fuck,” he hissed, dragging his nose along my skin, stopping over my erratic pulse.

A car door opened. From one blink to the next, I was tossed into back of a black sedan. My captor slid in beside me, slamming the door. I scrambled across the seat, reaching for the other door, trying to claw free. A hand clamped around my wrist, holding it in place.

“I don’t think so,” he growled. “Stop making this difficult.”

“Let me go,” I said, voice barely audible. Tears blurred my vision. “You can’t do this.”