After some time had passed, Luke let out a tired sigh as he slipped quietly into an empty house. For once, luck seemed to be on his side—no one was home to question his sudden appearance or cause trouble. The silence felt almost like a small mercy.
He glanced down at Michael, who was sprawled near the front door like a lost dog—breathing hard, eyes flickering with exhaustion and pain. Luke had dragged the guy all this way, and honestly, despite everything, he had done Michael a favor.
If Michael had been left alone out there, the Lycans would've found him by now. They would've drained his blood dry, then tossed what was left onto some cold metal slab, slicing him apart without a second thought. It wasn't pretty to imagine, but that was the harsh reality.
It hadn't been easy getting him here—rough, even—but sometimes, rough was better than dead.
Luke bent down and gave Michael's shoulder a quick, firm shake, then carefully stood up and closed the door behind him. The soft click echoed in the quiet house, locking out the danger from outside—for now.
Turning his attention to Selene, who was slumped heavily against his back, Luke gently lowered her onto a worn sofa in the living room.
The feeling of her weight pressed against him—a soft, almost too familiar sensation—but he quickly slapped his own face with the back of his hand. Not the time for that kind of thinking, he scolded himself silently.
His eyes immediately found the wound on her stomach. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. The injury wasn't healing. Not at all. Considering she was a vampire, the wound should have started closing up by now, but the skin remained torn and raw.
"Don't tell me she's lost too much blood and can't heal," Luke thought . Even vampires' self-healing would slow or stop if they lost too much blood. Selene was no different—her healing factor wasn't kicking in like it should.
He couldn't just stand there and watch her fade away. Beautiful women were meant to be protected, no question about it. Besides, he had plans for Selene—big plans. How could she die now, when there was still so much left to do?
His mind raced, searching for a solution. And finally came to one conclusion.
"It seems like I'm the only one who has to sacrifice myself for beauty," Luke muttered quietly under his breath, a dry sort of humor lacing his words.
He walked toward the kitchen, his eyes scanning the counters and drawers for a knife or anything sharp. After a moment, he found a small, blade in a drawer and he grabbed it.
Holding the knife, he headed back down the hall toward the living room. He gripped it tightly and paused for a second. Then he pressed the blade gently against his right hand.
A sharp sting bit through his skin as blood welled up, bright and warm. Thick drops slowly dripped down, pooling in his palm.
With steady hands, Luke turned back to Selene. Gently, he pried open her lips with his fingers and cradled her head, guiding the blood toward her mouth.
"This has to work," he thought, hoping his blood would help her recover—because right now, this was the only solution he had.
As the blood entered Selene's mouth, her eyes snapped open the instant she took a gulp. That piercing blue gaze, now sharpened with the familiar black inner pupils, locked onto Luke with a focus so intense it made his stomach tighten.
She was fully back in vampire mode—intense, alert, and utterly lethal. There was no trace of weakness left in her, no sign she'd been on the verge of collapse moments ago.
"Oh, you woke up," Luke said with a relieved smile, forcing a light tone into his voice. Inside, a part of him was genuinely pleased that his desperate idea had worked. The other part was now questioning if it had worked a little too well.
Before he could even take another breath, Selene moved. One moment she was still, the next she was a blur of speed, and suddenly he was flat on his back on the floor. She straddled him with fluid precision, her knees pinning his arms, her grip on his shoulders like iron.
"Whoa, easy there," Luke muttered. His voice caught somewhere between surprise and mild fear. Her eyes gleamed with a sharp hunger, and it was obvious she wasn't here for a polite sip—she looked like she was ready to drain him to the last drop.
She leaned in slowly, her head lowering until her face hovered just above his shoulder. Then, with unnerving precision, her lips brushed against the side of his neck. The light contact sent an involuntary shiver racing down his spine.
Great… don't tell me she's actuallygoing to suck me dry.
He tried to push her off, but the attempt was laughable—her body didn't so much as shift. It was like trying to shove a steel pillar out of place. She is stronger than him that is for sure.
Luke forced himself to keep his breathing steady, but the closeness was disorienting. He could feel the faint warmth of her breath fanning across his skin, hear the subtle change in its rhythm as she lingered there, deciding.
"Okay, okay," Luke said at last, letting a dry smile slip through. "Don't suck me dry."
If she was going to suck his blood, he might as well enjoy it. After all, there were worse ways to go—especially when a beautiful, dangerous vampire made you her main course.
Then, in a swift motion, Selene's fangs sank into his neck. As she drank, a warm, almost intoxicating heat spread through Luke's body, mixing pain and pleasure in a way he hadn't expected.