Xandros' pov:

"Open your legs, my queen."

" Why?" Lyra asked naughtily

"Because I'm going to eat this pussy until you're crying and begging to fuck you harder." I said with a soft grin across my face.

"Uh-ahh." Lyra moans echoed in the bedroom.

"That's it, now call me daddy while I fuck you like a dirty slut" I said thrusting in and out from Lyra's pussy.

I rammed my big cock into her pussy, causing her to let out more pleasurable sounds.

Her skin felt warm beneath my hands. It was soft and weak, and the closeness made my hunger grow stronger. I could feel Lyra’s heartbeat clearly. It was fast and uneven, and her breathing was shallow, as though she was afraid or confused.

The room carried the scent of oil and night air, and it stirred my senses. It made it harder to control myself, harder to remember the discipline I had spent centuries building.

I knew I should have stopped. I wanted to stop. I had told myself many times that I would never lose control again. But in that moment, everything I had restrained for centuries broke apart.

She tilted her neck toward me without fully understanding what she was doing. She did not know what was inside me or how dangerous I truly was. I leaned closer and let my fangs touch her skin.

When I pierced her flesh, she gasped and then screamed. The sound was loud and full of pain, cutting through the silence of the night. I felt her body tense as the pain spread through her.

My instincts took over. All I could sense was her blood, her warmth, and the strength flowing from her. My grip tightened as I drank. It was not hunger that drove me, and it was not cruelty. It was something deeper and older, something tied to what I was. I drank because I could not stop myself.

Her blood was unlike human blood. It was stronger and fuller, and it filled me with power. Each swallow made my body feel more alive. It reminded me of my lineage and the strength that came with it. I drank longer than I intended to, tasting the metal in her blood and feeling the energy spread through me.

She shook beneath me. Her eyes were wide, filled with fear and confusion, and she searched my face as if trying to understand what I was. I pulled back at last, my breath heavy, my mind unsteady.

“What have I done?” I whispered.

My voice sounded unfamiliar, as though it did not fully belong to me. I could still feel her pain, and it stirred memories I had buried long ago. Memories of loss, betrayal, and my father’s fall returned to me without warning.

Months ago, before everything changed, before Lyra entered my life, before blood tied us together, my world had already been broken.

I remembered the Obsidia Citadel. It stood tall and dark beneath a red sky, carrying the weight of generations. Its walls were filled with history, and that history pressed down on everyone who lived there. My father, Darion, ruled the Citadel. He was strict and feared. The other lords obeyed him because they were afraid of his power, and they respected him because of his position.

That respect did not last.

My mother betrayed him. She was unfaithful with a werewolf, one of our sworn enemies. When the truth came out, it spread quickly.

At first, people whispered in secret. Then they spoke openly. The halls of the Citadel filled with mockery and judgment. My father became the subject of constant shame.

I was still a child, but I understood enough to feel the pain. People stared at me differently. They spoke about my family when they thought I could not hear them. Their words hurt, and the shame stayed with me.

My father could not endure it. The man who once commanded armies and ruled without question became quiet and broken. One day, he walked into the rising sun, knowing it would destroy him. I watched him turn to ash, scattered by the wind. In that moment, everything I knew ended.

I was left behind.

I became Xandros, the son of a fallen ruler and a traitor. The Citadel no longer felt like home. It felt like a place that rejected me. The others called me weak and cursed. They treated me as a reminder of disgrace.

Only two stood by me. Corvus and Malaki.

They did not abandon me. They stayed when others turned away. They defended me when I was mocked. They trained with me, fought beside me, and kept me alive. Because of them, I endured the cruelty of the Citadel. Because of them, I grew stronger.

As time passed, I changed. I was no longer the broken child they expected me to be. I trained relentlessly. I learned control, strength, and strategy. By the time I reached maturity, no one dared to challenge me openly. I had become the strongest among my kind, not because of privilege, but because survival demanded it.

I left the Citadel behind. I abandoned its towers, its memories, and its judgment. I refused to carry the shame they placed on me. I walked away and never looked back.

Among humans, I found something different. I found anonymity. I could move through their world without being recognized. I took pleasure where I wished and fed when I chose.

Their fear and desire were easy to control, but even then, something was missing inside me.

I felt empty.

Then I met Lyra.

From the moment I saw her, I knew she was different. There was strength in her, something unusual. She did not feel entirely human. She challenged me without realizing it, and that alone caught my attention.

When I first tasted her blood, I understood the truth. Her blood was powerful. It did more than sustain me, it connected us. It awakened something I had tried to keep buried. In that moment, my careful control fell apart.

Now, as she lay trembling beneath me, I wondered what I had started. I could feel her life mixed with mine, and it frightened me more than any enemy ever had. I had survived betrayal, exile, and centuries of solitude, but I did not know if I could survive this bond.

I did not know if I could survive myself.

But I would face it.

Because I am Xandros. I do not retreat from what I begin. No one, human, werewolf, or vampire, has crossed me twice and lived to speak of it.

This was only the beginning.

The connection between Lyra and me was dangerous and forbidden. I knew that. Yet I could not deny it. My past followed me wherever I went. The fall of my father, my mother’s betrayal, and the shame tied to my bloodline still shaped me.

I had sworn long ago that I would never be weak again.

Corvus and Malaki remained close, silent and watchful, loyal as they had always been. They understood my past, but even they could not fully understand what Lyra had become to me.

She was a force that threatened to change everything.

And I was not a man who allowed change without consequence.