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Chapter 145 - Witches Don't Cry

Lucius POV

The night stretched on like a curse—long, suffocating, eternal.

I don't know how far I ran or how long I stayed hidden in that patch of darkness, clamping my jaws shut and digging my claws into the dirt to keep from tearing into the one person I could never harm. Reason had abandoned me hours ago, swallowed whole by the rising bloodlust that gnawed at my insides like a rabid beast. Every breath I took filled my lungs with her scent—warm skin, soft breath, and beneath it all… blood.

Her blood.

Fresh. Untouched. Calling to me.

I had survived centuries without a mate; I had endured starvation, torture, war. But her blood? Her scent? It was enough to unravel me down to my bones. Men have killed kingdoms for less temptation than this.

I fled because if I stayed… I would have drunk her dry.

And then—just before dawn—the wind shifted.

And with it came a different scent. Thinner. Weaker. Mortal.

Blood.

Fresh… human… blood.

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