Daughter of oblivion: Claimed by four alpha(s)

Chapter 242 - 241: We’re in deep shit

Finally, Laila leaned into him. He grabbed her hand as if his life depended on it, giving in to the instinct that had consumed him.

He pressed closer, letting himself feed on the blood, and Laila gasped softly, overwhelmed by the sensation. She leaned on his shoulder, surrendering to the moment as he continued, to suck her dry.

He continued to suck her blood, his body trembling with the intoxicating rush, until he was steady... though not satisfied. Finally, he pushed her away, and Laila stumbled back in shock, catching herself against the wall.

Alaric didn’t bother looking at her. He strode quickly out of the restroom, leaving Laila alone to gather herself.

"What... what was that?" she whispered, voice trembling. Her heart still raced, her mind spinning.

The blood had burned, yet felt electric so good, instead of painful. Why did it feel like this?

Outside, Alaric’s breath came out sharp and ragged as he stepped into the open air, letting instinct take over. And then, without another thought, he broke into a run, letting the adrenaline and hunger drive him forward. Then, with a surge of supernatural energy, he moved faster than the eye could follow, vanishing in an instant. Moments later, he arrived home.

He stumbled inside and froze. On the couch, Felicia and Armand were kissing. If not that he had a bigger problem, he would have made sure they explained what was happening.

The moment they noticed him, they immediately pulled apart. Humiliated, Felicia ducked behind Armand, peeking nervously. Armand’s eyes widened as he took in his brother’s pale, strained expression. He immediately sensed something was wrong.

Alaric turned to Felicia, grabbing her gently by the shoulders, and kissed her quickly. "I’ll call you," he said, his voice strained.

Felicia nodded, her face flushed, and hurried out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Alaric sank onto the couch, gripping his hair and groaning. "I fucked up... I fucked up real bad, Armand."

Armand blinked, staring at him in disbelief. "What... what happened?" His voice was quiet but sharp, sensing the storm radiating off his brother.

Alaric ran a hand down his face, trying to steady his breathing. "It’s... it’s complicated. I..." He paused, every memory of the restroom hitting him like a punch. "I lost control for a moment... with Laila."

Armand’s brows furrowed. "With... Laila?" His voice was calm but edged, a careful attempt to gauge the severity. "You mean... the girl from the Lamborghini?"

Alaric buried his face in his hands. "Yes, the same laila. I... I didn’t mean to. I just... shit, Armand, I don’t know what’s happening to me. She...she... I can’t explain it. I almost, God, I almost..." He groaned, voice breaking as he pulled at his hair. "I just lost control, okay?"

Armand leaned back, studying him carefully. He could see the raw panic etched across Alaric’s face, the tremble in his hands, the way his whole body seemed wrung dry. "Okay... okay," he said slowly. "Breathe. Focus. What you did... it’s done. But you have to tell me what happened."

Alaric swallowed hard, his throat tight. "She knows."

"Knows what?"

"That we’re... vampires."

All color drained from Armand’s face. His mouth went dry. "How... how is that possible?"

"I don’t know... I don’t fucking know," Alaric admitted, his voice trembling. "And the worst part is... I fell right into her trap." He took a shaky breath, then ran through everything that had happened between him and Laila, the blood, the rush, the overwhelming pull he couldn’t resist.

Armand shut his eyes and sank slowly onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. "We’re in deep shit," he muttered, his voice low, heavy with the weight of what he’d just heard.

Alaric ran a hand down his face again, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Armand... I don’t even know. I feel like a complete fool. The moment she cut herself... it hit me like a drug. I couldn’t think. All I wanted—" He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "All I wanted was her blood. And it was... intoxicating. I can’t tell you how hard I fought to stop myself from..."

Armand’s eyes narrowed, voice steady but tense. "Then you need to get control, Alaric. If she knows we’re vampires... if she’s testing you like that, we’re not just dealing with her. Anyone else could know too. And if word gets out..."

"I know! I know!" Alaric snapped, frustration and guilt cracking his voice. "And I hate that I even... I let it happen! I let her pull me in. I... I wasn’t thinking. I don’t even know why I couldn’t stop myself!"

Armand ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "Listen... this isn’t just about control. It’s about strategy. You need to think two steps ahead, or it’s going to get messy. And I mean... really messy."

Alaric’s eyes darted around the room, chest heaving, sweat still beading his forehead. "Two steps ahead? Armand... I barely managed one step before I was... I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t pulled back."

Armand’s jaw tightened. "Like... she’s Eryx’s sister? Alpha Roland’s daughter, alpha of the North’s daughter. That makes things... complicated."

Alaric swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. "Do you think she’ll... tell him about us?" His voice was barely above a whisper, tense with worry.

Not that he was scared, but vampires and werewolf are known for the hatred they have on each other. Laila came from a powerful werewolf background, if Alaric hadn’t stopped himself and even hurt her the slightest, then that would have caused a big war.

Knowing fully well that the other Alpha’s of the other packs wouldn’t hesitate to take them down even though they don’t have a genuine love for each other.

And of course other vampires would help them too without thinking twice but what’s the point in fighting a battle when they’re the only clearly in the wrong. And the vampire queen would never allow such a fight and would prefer to make peace, which the werewolves would definitely not agree to.

Armand leaned back, eyes narrowing as he considered. "I don’t know. If she truly likes you, maybe not... but if she’s just a trap, someone testing us, then we’re in deep shit. And I mean deep shit."