Claimed by My Boyfriend's Vampire Predator

Claimed by My Boyfriend's Vampire Predator

Christina · Ongoing · 252.2k Words

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Introduction

I'm Elowë Moran, and I thought Saint-Lumière would be my fresh start—a beautiful European city, a top nursing program, and a chance to build something real with my best friend Shera and boyfriend Oli.

Then I went hiking in the wrong forest.

What I saw that night should have been impossible. Wolves that walked like men. Eyes that glowed red in the darkness. A man who snapped necks with his bare hands and set bodies on fire like it was routine.

I ran. I survived. And then I woke up in a sex club wearing nothing but scraps of lace, with no memory of how I got there.

That's when I met Cassian Asgard.

He's a vampire. A real one—not the kind from movies, but something far older and infinitely more dangerous. He moves through shadows like they're doorways. He heals with a touch. And when he kissed me in that club, my heart should have stopped from fear.

Instead, his heart beat. Once. Just once.

He says it means something. That I'm his. That women he's kissed don't get to date other men.

But I have a boyfriend. I have a life. I have a mother back home who needs me to finish this degree and come back whole.

My uncle says to forget what I saw. To go back to normal life and pretend none of this is real.

But Cassian won't let me forget.

And the worst part? Some traitorous corner of my heart doesn't want him to.

Because the way Cassian Asgard looks at me isn't just possessiveness.

It's something far more consuming.

Chapter 1

Elowë's POV

My lungs were on fire.

Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass, sharp and burning all the way down. The trees blurred past me in streaks of black and gray, branches whipping at my arms, my face, anywhere they could reach. I didn't feel the pain anymore. Couldn't afford to.

Just keep running. That was all that mattered. Keep running and maybe, maybe we'd make it out of this.

"Elowë!" Shera's voice came from somewhere behind me, breathless and cracking. "Wait, I can't—"

I didn't wait. Couldn't. The sounds behind us were getting closer. Not animal sounds, not anything I'd ever heard before. Heavy footfalls that shook the ground, low growls that sounded almost human but not quite, like someone had taken a human voice and twisted it into something wrong.

Don't think about it. Don't look back. Just run.

My backpack was gone. My phone was gone. Everything we'd brought for our stupid hiking trip was scattered somewhere in the forest behind us, dropped in our panic when those things first appeared. I didn't even remember dropping them. One moment we'd been taking photos of the sunset through the trees, laughing about how we'd beat the other freshmen to exploring the city, and the next—

The next, we were running for our lives.

"Elowë, please!" Shera's voice was closer now, right behind me, and there was something in it that made my stomach drop. Not just fear. Pain.

I spun around, nearly tripping over a root, and saw her stumbling forward, her right foot dragging. Even in the dim light filtering through the canopy, I could see her face twisted in agony.

"Shera—"

She went down hard, her ankle giving out completely. The sound she made when she hit the ground punched straight through my chest.

I was running back before I even thought about it, dropping to my knees beside her. "Come on, get up, I'll carry you—"

"No." Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vise. Her grip was shaking, but her eyes were clear. Too clear. "Elowë, listen to me—"

"We don't have time—"

"Exactly." She squeezed harder, hard enough to hurt. "You can't carry me. We both know that. If you try, they'll catch both of us."

The words hit me like ice water. "I'm not leaving you—"

"You have to." Her voice dropped, urgent and steady in a way that scared me more than the sounds in the forest. "Find the ranger station. Get help. Come back for me. That's the only way we both survive this."

My throat closed up. The footsteps behind us were getting louder, closer, accompanied by sounds that made my skin crawl. Snapping branches. That low, inhuman growling.

"Shera, I can't—"

"You can." She pushed at my shoulder, her face fierce even as tears started tracking down her cheeks. "Go. Now. I'll hide. I'll be fine. But you have to go right now."

I looked at her ankle, already swelling, at the way she couldn't put any weight on it. At the determination in her eyes that said she'd already made her choice.

The sounds were so close now.

"I'll come back," I choked out, my own tears hot on my face. "I swear to God, Shera, I'll come back—"

"I know." She shoved me again, harder. "Go!"

I ran.

The forest swallowed me whole, branches tearing at my clothes, roots trying to trip me with every step. Behind me, I heard rustling as Shera dragged herself toward cover. Please let her hide in time. Please let her be okay.

I couldn't think about it. If I thought about it, I'd turn back, and then we'd both die.

The ground sloped upward suddenly, loose rocks shifting under my feet. I hit a patch of gravel and my foot slipped, the world tilting sideways. For one horrible second I was falling, weightless, my arms windmilling uselessly. Then I caught myself on a tree trunk, bark scraping my palms raw as I hauled myself upright.

Keep moving. Don't stop. Shera's waiting. She's counting on you.

My legs were shaking so badly I could barely control them. Each step felt wrong, disconnected, like my body was giving up piece by piece. The burning in my lungs had spread to my throat, my chest, everywhere. When had I last taken a full breath? I couldn't remember.

Behind me, something howled.

The sound drove straight through my spine, primal and terrifying.

Move. Move now.

I shoved away from the tree, forcing my legs to work, to carry me forward even though every muscle screamed in protest. The forest seemed endless, trees pressing in from all sides, the canopy blocking out what little moonlight might have helped me see where I was going.

Where was the ranger station? We'd passed a sign for it at the trailhead, back when this was still just a fun pre-semester hike. Three kilometers to the station, the faded wooden marker had said. How far had we run since then? I had no idea. But it had to be close. It had to be.

There had to be someone there who could help.

This was a public hiking trail. There had to be—

Light.

I nearly sobbed when I saw it, small pinpricks of illumination filtering through the trees ahead. Flashlights. People. Oh God, there were people.

My feet found new strength, carrying me forward faster. I could see them now, figures standing in a small clearing just ahead. Men in dark clothes, at least three or four of them. One stood with his back to me, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a long black coat that moved slightly in the breeze.

Even through my panic, even with my vision blurring from exhaustion and tears, something about him made me pause. The way he stood, perfectly still and controlled while everyone else shifted and moved. The line of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. The light caught his hair, turning it gold at the edges.

Stop staring and yell for help, you idiot.

I opened my mouth, my feet already moving forward, ready to scream, to beg them to help us, to call the police, to do something—

The man turned slightly to the side.

That's when I saw the person kneeling at his feet.

My brain couldn't process it at first. The figure on the ground, hands bound behind their back, head hanging forward. The dark stains covering their clothes. The way they weren't moving, weren't struggling, just kneeling there like a broken doll.

The tall man raised his hand. His fingers wrapped around the kneeling figure's neck, and then—

The crack echoed through the clearing.

The body dropped like someone had cut its strings. Just like that. No struggle. No sound. The man stepped back, brushing his hands together like he'd just finished some mundane task, and one of the others moved forward with a lighter.

Flames caught on the corpse's head, bright and horrible in the darkness.

My stomach heaved.

I bent over, retching violently, everything I'd eaten that day coming up in a burning rush. The sound echoed through the clearing, impossibly loud in the sudden silence.

"There's someone there."

The voice was male, sharp and alert. I looked up through watering eyes and saw one of the men pointing in my direction.

Then the tall man turned fully toward me.

Our eyes met.

His glowed red in the firelight. Not reflected light. Not a trick of shadows. Red. Glowing. Inhuman.

Oh God. Oh God, they're not human either.

The thought hit me like a physical blow. These people, the things chasing us—they were all the same. All monsters.

Run.

I spun and bolted back into the trees, my legs somehow finding strength I didn't know I had left. Behind me, I heard a low voice giving orders, heard footsteps starting to follow, but I didn't look back. Couldn't look back.

The forest was a nightmare now, every shadow hiding something terrible, every sound making my heart jump into my throat. My feet caught on roots, on rocks, on nothing at all. I went down hard once, my palms skidding across dirt and pine needles, and scrambled back up without stopping.

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

But it was. The body on the ground had been real. The blood had been real. The way that man had looked at me, like I was already dead and just didn't know it yet—

My vision was going dark at the edges, my legs turning to rubber beneath me. Each breath was agony, each step a battle against my body's desperate need to stop, to collapse, to give up.

The ranger station. I just had to find the ranger station. Someone there would help. Someone would call the police. Someone would—

The footsteps behind me were getting closer.

Closer.

Closer.

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