Page 43 of Vampire Bite

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “Damien,” I said, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. “He’s… my uncle.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of those words settling over everyone. Annika’s gaze snapped to me, her eyes wide with shock. I couldn’t meet her stare. Not yet.

“He’s the one who betrayed your family, isn’t he?” Lena’s voice was low, filled with the kind of quiet fury I knew all too well.

I nodded. “Yes. He sided with our enemies when we needed him most. Sold us out for power, wealth, influence, whatever he could gain for himself. My father trusted him, and Damien turned on him, on all of us.”

Callum let out a low whistle. “And now he’s in bed with the shifters. That explains a lot.”

“Explains, but also complicates,” Lena said. “If he’s involved, this isn’t just about shifters anymore. He knows how we operate. He knows you, Lucas.”

I clenched my fists, the anger I’d tried to push down bubbling to the surface. “He doesn’t know me anymore,” I snapped. “Not who I’ve become.”

Annika spoke softly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “He mentioned me. He called me a healer. How would he know that?”

All eyes turned to her, and I could see the unease in her posture, the way she shifted under the weight of their stares.

“He has spies everywhere,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “He would have heard about what happened at the camp, or... maybe even here.”

“You think we have a traitor?” Callum’s voice was sharp, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

I shook my head, though I couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know. But we can’t rule anything out.”

Annika’s voice was soft when she spoke. “If they’re after me... maybe I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t,” I said, cutting her off. Her eyes met mine, and I could see the storm of emotions swirling there. I could see fear, guilt, doubt. “Don’t say you shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fault, Annika.”

“You being here isn’t what put us in danger,” Callum added. “We were already at war. You didn’t start this fight, but you’ve been part of it, just like the rest of us. Don’t shoulder blame that doesn’t belong to you.”

Her shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping to the floor. I hated seeing her like this—so strong yet so uncertain. I wanted to reach out, to take her hand, but I didn’t. Not in front of everyone.

“We’ll figure it out,” Lena said, her voice cutting through the tension. “Damien or no Damien, shifters or no shifters. We’ve come this far. We’re not backing down now.”

The group murmured in agreement, and we all dispersed in different directions, remaining within the confines of the headquarters. I went to my quarters, and Annika silently followed behind. I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with her.

I leaned against the edge of the desk, watching her pace near the barred window. She’d been restless since the meeting ended.

Finally, she turned to face me. “Lucas,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “how are you feeling?”

Her question caught me off guard. Of all the things I expected her to ask, that wasn’t one of them. “I’m fine,” I said automatically, though the words felt hollow even as I spoke them.

She frowned, crossing her arms. “Don’t do that. Don’t give me some surface-level answer. I want to know how you’re really feeling.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. How could I explain the tangle of emotions inside me? The rage simmeringfrom seeing Damien again, the guilt of dragging Annika into this, the suffocating fear of what could happen to her if this war went wrong? And beneath it all, the way her presence left a mark I couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t know,” I admitted finally, my voice low. “I feel... torn.”

She stepped closer, her arms uncrossing. “Torn how?”

I met her gaze, those deep eyes searching mine. I wanted to tell her everything, to lay it all bare, but the words felt too sharp. “Torn between what I have to do and what I want to do,” I said after a long pause. “Between protecting the people who depend on me, keeping you safe and taking Damien head on.”

Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “But I’m not your responsibility—”

“You are,” I cut her off, sharper than I intended. Her eyes widened, and I forced myself to soften. “You are, Annika. Maybe not in the way you think, but you’ve become part of this. Part of us. And I...”

I trailed off, unsure how to finish. I didn’t want to push her away with the depth of what I felt, but I also couldn’t lie. Not to her.

“And you what?” she pressed, her voice quiet but insistent.

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