The night air was sharp, biting, but I was so lost in the storm of my own mind that the cold barely registered. Half-blood. The words echoed in my skull, a broken record, a taunt that gnawed at my sanity. Was I losing it? To question my own blood, to doubt everything I’d ever been told—was that madness? I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. No. I know who I am. I know my name. I know myself.
But did I?
The park was a ghost town; the only sounds were the mournful groans of the wind and the occasional metallic creak of the swing chains. My thoughts were louder than the world, a spiral of doubt and fury. I could feel myself unravelling, thread by thread—
“What are you doing out here?”
A voice. Familiar. Warm. It yanked me from the abyss of my own mind like a lifeline.
“Cassia?”
She stood there, silhouetted against the dim glow of a distant streetlamp, her breath curling in the cold air. I blinked, disoriented. “What are you doing here?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she moved toward me, her boots crunching softly on the frost-kissed grass, and took the swing beside mine. The chains groaned under her weight, “I could ask you the same thing,” she said, her voice low, almost teasing. “What’s going on?”
I stared at my palms, as if the answers were etched into the lines of my skin. “Just… clearing my head.”
She began to rock her swing, the rhythmic squeak of the chains filling the space between us. “And what’s got it so cluttered?”
I turned to face her, my throat tight. “Do you remember what you said to me when we first met? You said I was different.” The word tasted bitter. “What did you mean by that?”
She didn’t stop swinging, her gaze steady. “You don’t feel like other vampires. With you, I don’t feel… on edge.”
That didn’t help. If anything, it made the gnawing doubt worse. My hands began to tremble. Was it fear? Anger? I couldn’t tell. “What does that even mean?” My voice cracked.
Before the question could swallow me whole, warmth enveloped me. Cassia’s arms slid around my shoulders from behind, her body pressing against my back. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the icy air, seeping into me and grounding me.
“Shhh,” she murmured, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter if you’re different. I like you the way you are.”
Her words were bliss, but they didn’t erase the feeling clawing at my insides. I wasn’t just different in personality. I could feel that a fundamental part of myself was different from the other vampires in my family.
“Cassia, I don’t feed like the others. I can walk in the sun without protection."
“Those aren’t bad things.”
“Never said they were, but it does mean…”
I paused, or more accurately, the words were caught in my throat, and I could feel Cassia waiting. The truth is, I had come to this conclusion a while back. Deep down, I knew the answer, long before Izzy called me a half-blood, all those years of being side-eyed by others. I knew, I just buried it so deep that it was a shock to my system to admit it now.
“Cassia, I don’t think my father was a vampire...”
She didn’t pull away. Didn’t gasp in shock. She just held me tighter for a moment before stepping around to face me, her hands cupping my cheeks.
“I don't put much stock in blood”, she said softly. “I mostly care for bonds or actions. But I get it—your world, it’s all about blood. It’s everything.” “I just need to know,” I whispered. “I’ve been told my whole life he was one of us, but he couldn’t have been. I need the truth.” It wasn’t the whole truth, though. I didn’t want to worry her, but there was more—a hunger, but not for blood. Something dark coiling in my gut, a violent urge I couldn’t explain.
I needed to know if I was dangerous.
Cassia’s thumbs traced my cheekbones, her touch warm. The park was silent now, the wind still, so still we could hear our mingling breath in the cold air, and then—I don’t know who moved first.
One second, we were staring at each other, and the next, our lips crashed together. Her hands slid into my hair, pulling me closer, as I groaned into her mouth. She was so warm, so alive, and I wanted to drown in it. The kiss deepened, her tongue sweeping against mine, teasing my fangs, causing a shiver to run through me. As she moaned, her fingers pulled taut in my hair.
We broke apart just long enough to gasp for air. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked, her voice husky, her eyes dark with desire. She gestured toward the park gate. “I don’t live far.”
I smirked, despite the fire burning through me. “You’re insane, bringing a vampire home. What will your parents think?” She laughed, breathless. “Good thing they’re not there.”
Cassia’s room was exactly as I’d imagined—minimalist, practical, with just enough personal touches to make it feel like hers. A flowery throw blanket draped over the back of a chair, a half-empty mug on the nightstand, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.
She disappeared into her en suite, emerging moments later in a loose T-shirt and shorts, her skin flushed from the cold and something else. The heat radiating off her was intoxicating, and when she brushed against me, I could feel my own body responding, my temperature rising to match hers.
I cupped her cheeks, turning her face toward mine, and then we were kissing again, hungrier this time. Her tongue was bold, exploring my mouth, tangling with mine, brushing against my fangs. I groaned, my hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her flush against me. She melted into the touch, her body yielding, eager.
I wanted more.
My fingers trailed lower, skimming over the swell of her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt. She was so sensitive, her nipples hardening under my touch, and she arched into me with a soft gasp. I dipped my head, pressing kisses along her collarbone, my lips trailing downward. She whimpered when I reached the hem of her shirt, her fingers tangled in my hair as I nudged the fabric up, exposing her skin to the cool air—and then to my mouth.
She tasted like warmth and need, and when my fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts, she moaned. I moved my hand lower, my fingers sliding in as deep as they would go, her hips jerking forward. She was soaked, to think someone so modest and shy could have a pussy that gets this wet just from kissing. Cassia arched herself into me; she wanted them deeper. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were red, and her breath was irregular. Her breasts were firm and poking through her shirt. I pushed and pulled my fingers in and out, and with every movement, her moans grew louder.
The more I watched her, the more I wanted to see. Cassia could barely speak, so out of breath from the rhythmic fingering we had fallen into, “I want you, please” She brushed her hands against the swollen heat between my legs, another thing that made me different, though it was a difference I had come to appreciate.
She continued to softly stroke me while I fingered her. I was not alien to the sensation of being touched. I have had my fair share of encounters over the years; you’ll be surprised by how much people are down to have sex with a chick with a dick. But there was something different about it being Cassia, someone I actually cared for; it felt taboo, which in turn made it feel better. Her arousal slicked against my fingers, and the sound she made when I slid another finger inside her was almost my undoing.
“Fuck,” she breathed, her nails digging into my shoulders. “More.”
I obliged, curling my fingers, finding that spot that made her gasp and tremble. Her moans grew louder, her body arching into my fingers, her breasts pressing against her shirt, visually aroused. I could feel her pulse racing, her heat, the way her muscles clenched around my fingers. She was drowning in sensation, and I wanted to watch her come undone.
“Please,” she begged, her hand slipping between us again, finding the hard length of me straining against my pants. Her touch was intoxicating. She grew bolder, stroking me faster. “I want you. All of you.”
I captured her mouth again, kissing her deeply as I worked my fingers inside her, her moans vibrating against my lips. She was close, her body trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I wanted to feel her come apart, wanted to hear her scream my name.
But more than that—I wanted to be inside her when she did.
The air was electric, charged with a hunger that went beyond mere desire—it was primal. Cassia's fingers trembled as she wrapped them around my length, her thumb swiping over the slick tip. The sensation sent a jolt through me, my hips bucking into her touch, my fangs throbbing with the need to taste her.
“You’re so hard,” she whispered, her voice thick with want. Her grip tightened, stroking me slowly, and I groaned, my control fraying. I wanted to bury myself inside her, to claim her in every way possible.
But first, I wanted to taste her.
I pushed her back onto the bed, my body covering hers, my lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. She moaned into my mouth, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel the heat of her, the dampness between her thighs, and it drove me wild.
Breaking the kiss, I trailed my lips down her throat, my fangs grazing her pulse point. She shivered, her breath hitching as I lingered there, the scent of her blood and arousal intoxicating. “Do you trust me?” I murmured against her skin. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.
That was all I needed.
I struck, my fangs sinking into the soft flesh of her neck. Cassia gasped, her body arching beneath mine as I drew blood. It was rich, warm, and sweet—nothing like the cold, metallic taste of the blood I’ve tasted before. It sent a rush of heat through me, my cock twitching against her thigh.
Cassia's hands clenched in my hair, her moans growing louder, more desperate. “Fuck, that feels—don’t stop.”
I didn’t. I lapped at the wound, my tongue soothing the sting as I pulled back, my lips slick with her blood. The taste of her was intoxicating, and I could feel my own arousal spiralling out of control. I needed to be inside her—now.
I tore my lips from her neck, my gaze locking onto hers. Her eyes were dark with lust, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in anticipation. I didn’t waste another second. Positioning myself at her entrance, I pushed inside her in one smooth thrust, filling her completely.
Cassia cried out, her nails digging into my back as I bottomed out. She was tight, wet, and so hot—her body gripping me like a vice. I stayed there for a moment, letting her adjust, my forehead pressed to hers as we both panted, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us.
Then I began to move.
Each thrust was deep, relentless, my hips snapping forward as I drove into her again and again. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling her room. Her moans were music to my ears, her body writhing beneath mine, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.
“More,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I need more.”
I gave it to her.
My pace quickened, my thrusts growing harder, more demanding. Cassia's legs tightened around my waist, her heels digging into my ass as she pulled me deeper. I could feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
“Touch yourself,” I commanded, my voice rough with need.
She didn’t hesitate. Her hand slipped between us, her fingers finding her clit. The moment she touched herself, her body jerked, a broken cry tearing from her throat. “Oh god—yes—”
Her walls clenched around me, her orgasm crashing over her in waves. The sight of her—flushed, trembling, her mouth open in a silent scream—was my undoing. With a growl, I buried myself deep inside her, my release spilling into her in hot, pulsing jets, as she continued to twitch around me.
But I wasn’t done.
I pulled out slowly, my cock still hard, still hungry. Flipping her onto her stomach, I yanked her hips up, positioning her on her knees. Cassis gasped as I entered her from behind, my hands gripping her hips tightly as I drove into her with renewed fervour.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” I groaned, my thrusts deep and punishing. She pushed back against me, meeting each thrust with a desperate whimper. I could feel her tightening around me again, her body on the edge, so close to another release.
Leaning over her, I sank my fangs into her shoulder, my cock buried deep inside her as I drank from her once more. Cassia screamed, her body convulsing as another orgasm tore through her. The taste of her blood, the feel of her body milking my cock—it was too much. With a final, brutal thrust, I came again, filling her all over again as I collapsed onto the bed beside her, pulling her into my arms.
We lay there, tangled together, our skin slick with sweat and the remnants of our pleasure. Cassia turned her head, pressing a lazy kiss to my shoulder. “That was… intense.”
I chuckled, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her skin. “You’re telling me.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching mine. “You okay?”
I considered the question. The doubt, the fear—it was still there, lurking in the back of my mind. But for now, wrapped in the warmth of her body, her scent clinging to my skin, her blood still lingering on my lips, I could almost pretend it didn’t exist.
“I am now,” I murmured, pulling her closer for another kiss.
