CHAPTER 270: VAMPIRE HUNT 30

Selis’s breath came fast and uneven, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. Her trembling hand clutched the side of her neck where warm blood still trickled between her fingers.

Her wide eyes locked on Lucian’s face—on the sharp, elongated fangs that gleamed in the dim light, still slick with her blood.

"Y-you . . . you’re a vampire?" Her voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and fear. The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

A thousand questions clawed at her mind all at once. Every unexplained thing about him now made a twisted sort of sense—his unnatural speed, his inhuman strength, the way his wounds seemed to vanish overnight.

But how . . . ?

And yet, if he really was a vampire, then how had he walked freely inside the cathedral, through the holy wards and the sanctified halls without so much as a wince?

Lucian’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. His gaze flickered away, as though meeting her eyes would cost him more than any battle he’d fought.

Slowly, he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the red stain there, as if wiping away the truth.

"I . . . I’m half vampire," he said at last, his voice low, each word heavy. He rubbed his hands over his face, almost as if to hide it. "When I was young—an orphan—the church took me in. Back then, I wasn’t the only one. There were . . . others. Children like me."

Selis swallowed hard. His tone alone made her skin prickle.

"They experimented on us," he continued, his voice tightening with every word. "Forced us to drink vampire blood. Not just any blood—pure, from a high-ranking vampire. Most of us . . . didn’t survive. I was the only one who did. That’s how I became . . . this."

He let the silence stretch between them, his words hanging in the air like smoke.

Selis frowned, impatient. "That’s it? That’s way too short of a story for something that sounds like hell."

Lucian’s lips curved into a humorless smile. "I’ve been tracking that blood ever since—trying to find out who it came from. I learned it belongs to someone powerful. Very powerful."

"And you think it’s Emerald? That’s why you’re helping me?"

He nodded. "The church is still taking in children . . . still experimenting. I know exactly how much agony they’re being put through. How the thirst burns you alive from the inside until you’re nothing but an animal. I can’t let it continue."

Selis’s brows drew together. "So that’s why you disappear whenever you’re injured?"

Lucian gave a slow nod. "I can only heal with blood. If I don’t drink . . . I weaken. My mind frays. I lose control. Like . . . what just happened."

She studied him for a moment, piecing things together. "Then . . . how can you walk inside the sacred halls? No vampire could survive all those protections inside the cathedral."

"Apparently," he said dryly, "half-vampires aren’t affected. As long as I woke those halls in human form, I wouldn’t be burn."

Selis tried to take in everything at once. "So . . . you’re the only one who survived?"

"Yes." His voice was flat, but there was something in his eyes—a shadow of every child who hadn’t made it.

Her chest ached at the thought. No wonder he carried himself like a man who trusted no one, who always looked grumpy.

"And once we find Emerald . . . what then?"

"I’ll put an end to this," he said, his voice suddenly sharp as steel.

"You mean hand her over to Salister, right? And put an end to this war, right?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at her with a faint frown. "Aren’t you afraid of me? Knowing what I am?"

Selis blinked. Was he serious? "We’re trained to fight vampires, remember? And I’m a vampire hunter. It would be funny if I’m afraid of one."

"Keep this to yourself," he warned quietly, "or you’ll die."

She gave him a look. "I know. If humanity’s ’greatest hero’ turned out to be half vampire, the chaos it would cause . . . The church would bury the truth before they let it out."

Silence settled again, broken only by the faint drip of blood from her neck. She could feel his gaze lingering there, hot and unblinking.

"So . . . what now?" she asked.

Lucian stepped closer, and her heartbeat leapt painfully in her chest. His eyes weren’t on her face—they were locked on the wound at her neck. Something in his expression shifted, dark and hungry.

Before she could step back, his hand closed gently around hers—the one pressed to her wound. Without a word, he lifted it to his lips, his breath warm against her skin.

Selis inhaled sharply as his tongue brushed over her palm, slow and deliberate, tasting the blood there. Her knees felt unsteady, but she couldn’t look away.

"For now . . ." his voice was rough, dangerous. ". . . I’m still hungry."

He leaned in. The faint heat of his breath ghosted over her neck just before his lips touched her skin. His tongue traced the curve of her wound, each movement sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers twitched at her sides, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

Then his fangs sank into her.

Selis gasped, a sharp sound that melted into something else—a stuttered breath she couldn’t quite control.

The sting was brief, replaced by a strange, heady warmth that spread through her body. It was intoxicating, the sensation threading heat through her veins until her thoughts blurred.

She had trained for years to resist vampires, to fight them without hesitation. But nothing in her training had prepared her for this.

Lucian’s grip tightened slightly at her waist, holding her still, his body close enough for her to feel the strength coiled beneath his restraint.

Every slow pull of his mouth sent another wave of warmth spiraling through her, blurring the lines between danger and something far more dangerous.

Desire . . .

Her breath hitched again, and his hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, anchoring her against him.