Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man

Reed POV:

She was yelling at me to fuck off, her voice ragged, furious, cracking under pain—but still fierce. My wolf? He was losing his damn mind, growling, snapping inside my head like I was the idiot who put her in this state.

And maybe I was.

But the real curse?

Her scent.

Gods, her scent—it was like being handcuffed inside a room filled with every sinful thing imaginable. Sweet, sharp, intoxicating. Like fire and honey. Like blood and roses. Like her.

It was wrong.

She was in pain. She was bleeding. She was curled up and cursing me out, and I was standing there like a man possessed, because every inhale made my spine tighten and my thoughts go dark. It was like someone had lit a match in my brain and dropped it into gasoline.

Temptation on legs. A fucking walking aphrodisiac.

It was worse than heat. Worse than any rut I’d ever had.

I’ve faced down rival alphas, hunted traitors, stared death in the eye.

But nothing—nothing—had me under pressure like this little bleeding human curled up on my bed with her scent laced like a trap around my throat.

I needed to get out.

I needed to fix her.

I needed to not fucking lose my mind.

The only other person—or thing—who’d ever shown an interest in her was that dead, walking corpse of a leech—Blaze.

If he had anything to do with her pain... if even a sliver of this was his doing...

The vampire kingdom would be minus a royal heir tonight.

No one touches what’s mine and walks away with their limbs still attached.

I didn’t want to leave her. Not in the condition she was in. Curled up, bleeding, whimpering like her own body was trying to destroy her from the inside out. My wolf nearly lost his shit when I took one step toward the door. But I had to. I had to know. Had to find out what the hell was going on with her. I wasn’t going to just stand there helpless like some human boy with no instincts.

I promised my wolf we’d return. Swore he’d get a shot at the cold-blooded bastard once we found him. That was the only reason he agreed—just barely.

But fate didn’t even give us time to hunt.

Because the moment I stepped outside that pathetic excuse for a boarding house, I saw him. That freak.

Blaze.

Lurking. Perched like a goddamn gargoyle. Right on her window. Again.

That smug undead bastard had some serious death wish.

"Wrong window, leech," I growled, my claws already slipping out. "Tonight, I gut you slow."

As I turned back, bolting into the boarding house like my veins ran pure fire, my wolf’s voice slithered through my head—low, curious, and dangerous.

"What if the leech knows she’s a girl?"

His tone wasn’t shocked. It was... dark. Calculating.

"Knows she’s not some scrawny human boy, but a girl—the one she’s been hiding from the whole goddamn country?"

My pace faltered for a split second—just enough to feel the weight of that thought crash into me.

What if Blaze knew before I did?

What if that bloodsucker had known all along—what she was, who she was—and played along while I was busy losing my damn mind thinking I was attracted to a stupid human boy?

I growled, shoving open the door so hard it nearly came off its hinges, again.

No. No fucking way.

If that leech knew her secret, if he’d touched her, been near her in ways that made her tremble and hide and bleed and cry out in pain—then forget kingdom politics, forget treaties.

There wouldn’t be a vampire kingdom left when I was done with him.

Blaze POV

Yeah, I walked out on her. Or maybe the right word is ran. I ran from her like a goddamn coward—but not because I was scared of her.

No. I was scared of me.

Of the way my demons clawed inside my chest, shrieking with hunger and desire the moment she got too close. How they whispered her name like it was a hymn and a curse all at once. How they started howling mate the first time I looked into those stubborn eyes.

Fuck that.

No way.

No fucking way.

I am the Prince of the Vampire Kingdom. Two hundred decades of power in my blood. A legacy bathed in blood and shadow. I’ve survived wars, betrayals, and centuries of monsters. And now, the universe thinks it’s funny to hand me a human as my beloved? fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

What a joke.

Sure, I could turn her. I could drink from her, make her mine, bind her soul to me with ancient rites and unholy magic—but she’d still be a weakness. A liability. A glowing target painted on my chest for every power-hungry bastard out there.

I never wanted a beloved. I never went looking for one.

Because unlike the rest of my kind who believe a beloved is your missing half, your divine match... I see it for what it is.

A fucking chain.

A beloved is someone the world can use to bring you to your knees. And I’ve fought too long to bow to anyone.

So yeah. I left her.

But then I find myself standing outside her window again, like some cursed fool, watching her through the dark glass while her scent twists the air around me like a noose.

And for the first time in centuries... I wonder if I already lost the war inside me.

The voices—they never left. Whispering, clawing, commanding.

"Go to her."

"Mark her."

"Make her yours."

Parasites. Demons in my bloodline that had learned to mimic my thoughts. But even I couldn’t deny it now—the ache in my chest, it wasn’t mine alone. It was hers. Pain slicing through me like a hot blade, sharp and sudden.

She was hurting.

And before I even realized it, I was moving. Blurred through the wind, faster than thought. That cursed bond—the one I never agreed to—had already started forming, tethering me to her fragile mortal soul like a chain made of fire and need.

Fuck.

It was too late to undo it. Too late to pretend.

Her scent was already in the air before I reached the window. Sweet, maddening, intoxicating like spiced honey soaked in moonlight—luring me in with its deceptive softness.

But then came the metallic tang.

Blood.

Her blood.

That was the final snap.

I didn’t hesitate—I lunged. Window cracked open beneath my palm, and I was inside her bedroom in less than a breath.

And then I saw him.

A low growl met me from the doorway. The mutt.

That overgrown, puffed-up wolf prince stood there like he belonged, like he owned the air in her lungs. His posture screamed dominance. Possession. His scent had already touched every inch of this room.

My fangs extended, rage crawling beneath my skin.

He better not have touched her.

He better not have made her bleed.

Because for the first time in centuries, I might just drain an Alpha dry.

This wasn’t about her anymore.

This was war.

And I never lose.

Looking for her I saw her on the bed. She was curled in on herself like a dying flame.

The sheets beneath her were soaked in red—her scent laced with the metallic sting of blood, sharp and wrong. Too much. It filled the air like smoke in a burning cathedral. My chest squeezed, rage and panic rising in tandem.

I didn’t even look at her again—couldn’t. Not while the mutt was standing there, not when his presence felt too close. Too fucking possessive.

My eyes snapped to him, glowing gold clashing with my own crimson.

"What did you fucking do to her?"

My voice was low. Deadly. Laced with venom that could corrode bone.

And the bastard had the nerve to bare his teeth at me. His eyes had shifted—no longer human. They were the gold of his wolf, shining with challenge, with rage.

Good. Let him rage.

Let him try.

Because all I could see was her—in pain. And the wolf was the only one here.

So unless the damn room attacked her, it had to be him.

My fangs dropped lower.

Hands curled into fists.

The bond howled inside me, ancient and merciless.

I was going to rip out his spine unless he opened that mutt mouth of his and gave me a reason not to.

Reed POV :

He said her.

Her.

So the fucking leech knew. He knew she was a girl this whole damn time.

And still—

Still he snuck around her like some fucking shadowed predator. Still he tried to sink his claws into what wasn’t his. Still he dared show his bloodsucking face at her window like some lovesick stalker.

That one word—her—was all I needed.

My fists clenched.

My wolf exploded in a full-throated roar of fury, pacing in my skull, demanding vengeance.

He knew.

And if he knew she was a girl, then maybe—just maybe—he was the one who hurt her.

Maybe the blood on her thighs wasn’t something natural. Maybe it wasn’t just some human thing I didn’t understand.

Maybe it was his fucking fault.

And that was it.

That was the final goddamn straw.

"You knew," I growled, voice rough like gravel scraping bone. "You fucking knew she was a girl."

My eyes were already gold. My claws already formed. My whole body vibrating like a live wire about to snap.

The vampire didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Just stood there like I wasn’t the only thing between him and death.

Someone’s not walking out of this place alive.

And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.

If he touched her—if he fucking hurt her—I was going to paint this goddamn boarding house in vampire blood.