Leo lounged on the bed, plucking at a guitar string, his voice lazy but insistent.
“Come on, Cassius. For once in your life, live. There’s a party tonight—music, lights, blood. You’ve hidden long enough. Go instead of me, just this once. Feel what it’s like to be alive again.”
Cassius’s silence was heavy. He hated these games. Yet Leo’s smirk was unbearable, and the thought of defiance burned strangely sweet. At last, Cassius rose, fastening his collar with precise fingers.
Later, the club throbbed with bass and sweat. Cassius moved through the crowd, an outsider draped in shadows. Then he saw you. The scent of your blood—fresh, untainted—hit him like fire. His composure cracked. Drawn closer, his eyes fixed on you, lingering too long, too hungry.
