Noir

** SEASON 2** Reign of DarknessContent is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

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The world had transformed into a dark and twisted realm, reflecting Noir's corrupted soul. Despite everything, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him. The air crackled with the imminent battle as we approached Noir and his followers. They congregated around an old, decrepit church, their bodies adorned with symbols of death and destruction. Their laughter echoed like the hungry howls of wolves, sending shivers down my spine. Creeping closer, a strange sensation washed over me, as if my own body was betraying me. It dawned on me that my Cyprian blood was stirring, responding to Noir's presence in an unprecedented way. My heart raced, overwhelmed by a primal desire I had never known. I fought to suppress it, focusing on the task at hand. Suddenly, my attention was seized by a figure emerging from behind the church, a silhouette etched against the darkened sky. Even from a distance, I could feel Noir's presence as a tangible force, pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. With a growl, he lunged at me before I could even raise my dagger.

Noir possessed a strength unlike anything I had ever encountered, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing stature. In the moonlight, his fangs gleamed as he snarled, his voice a menacing growl that sent shivers down my spine. Without warning, he seized me by the throat, hoisting me off the ground, his intense gaze locked onto mine. "I've been waiting for you," he hissed, his breath hot against my ear. "And now that you're here, I'm going to claim what's mine." His grip tightened, cutting off my air supply, and consciousness began to slip away. As my vision blurred, I could only watch in horror as the Elders and other vampires closed in, encircling us like a pack of wolves preparing to feast. Panic washed over me as his words sank in. This wasn't how it was supposed to unfold. I was meant to kill him, not become his pawn. But it was too late. Noir's grip on my throat was unyielding, and darkness encroached at the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was the triumphant expression on his face before everything faded to black.

When I came to, I was lying on the softness of a bed, my throat burning from where Noir had gripped it earlier. There was also a throbbing pain in my neck, and raising a hand, I realized Noir had bitten me. "Bastard," I hissed, no longer fearing a transition from his bite as I once had: it couldn't turn me into anything other than what I already was. But damn it pissed me off that he had.

Wiping at the blood that still dribbled lightly down my neck, I stared at the red streaks smearing my fingertips. A feeling of hunger cramped my stomach as the metallic scent hit my nose, creating within me a desire to taste it. Carrying the blood to my lips, I lightly licked at it, savoring the taste, then pushing my fingertips fully in my mouth, I sucked the blood off of them as I took in my surroundings.

Noir's lair was decadent, with red velvet drapes and gold-leafed furniture. The four-poster bed I sat on dominated one wall, its sheets and pillows strewn about, as if he'd just thrown them about in a hurry. The room was lit by low lighting, casting dancing shadows across the walls and ceiling, giving the space an intimate glow.

I let out a breath, trying to steady myself. The last time I'd seen Noir, I'd been on a mission to kill him. Now, it appeared I was his captive...again. I knew my team, as well Eton and Thorin would be working tirelessly to find a way to free me, but I also knew it was most likely, hopeless.

Lost in my thoughts, I gave a startled jump when out of the shadows, Noir's voice purred, "You must be hungry."

I didn't need to ask what he meant; he had just witnessed my frenzy over the taste of my own blood, and it would only be natural for an emerging vampire to hunger for the taste of their masters. He wasn't my master, though he didn't know that.

As I turned to face him, my gaze locked with his dark and intense one. Despite myself, I felt my body respond to his presence, a mix of desire and hunger even as I growled, "No."

Noir stood from the chair he had been lounging in, and stepping closer, his lips curling into a smirk, he murmured, "Come now, my pet. I can feel your hunger." Stepping even closer, he reached out, cupping my cheek. "You want it, don't you?" Placing a knee on the bed, he leaned in toward me, his breath warm against my cheek, his voice a silky whisper as he breathed, "You are mine, Lyra. You always have been. You'll drink my blood and you'll like it." His hand trailed down my neck, coming to rest on my collarbone. "Because it's the only thing that will make you feel alive."

As his touch ignited a fire in my veins, I felt a strange sense of power surge through me. I was not the meek and helpless newly turned vampire he assumed I was, and that I would do whatever he asked of me. Not even close, for though I would drink his blood, I would not become lost in the dark depths of a shared hunger.

With a low growl, my fangs elongated, and I leaned in biting down on his neck, drawing his blood into my mouth. As the hot liquid flowed down my throat, I felt a wave of euphoria wash over me. I had never transitioned before and as I did, I felt my Cyprian blood surge through me.

Noir groaned, his head falling back against the wall as he reveled in the sensation of my fangs piercing his skin. When he finally regained his composure, he turned to face me, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "That's it," he purred. "Drink up, my pet."