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

Clare POV:

Why didn’t I close the damn door?!

I sank lower into the tub so fast I nearly inhaled bubbles, arms instinctively crossing my chest even though the foam already hid everything important. Blaze walked in like he owned the place—which, well, he probably did—with that insufferable, smug, too-handsome-for-his-own-good smirk.

"Don’t even think about it," I warned, voice sharp, cheeks burning.

He just leaned against the doorway, smirk widening.

"Too late."

Yep. Knew it was too good to be true.

Blaze.

Wearing that same stupid, sinful smirk.

Leaning casually against the doorframe like this wasn’t weird at all.

"Ever heard of knocking?!" I snapped, sinking until the water lapped right under my chin.

"If I knocked, you’d have time to hide," he said with a wink. "Besides... you didn’t close the door. Kind of your fault."

"I didn’t think I had to! I thought maybe the vampire with a trillion-dollar suite would give a girl a little privacy."

His gaze roamed over the tub — not explicitly lewd, but... heated. Heavy.

"You know," he said, voice lower, darker, "I never thought something could look better than my tub. But now..."

I groaned.

Of course. Too good to be true.

Vampire or not, this guy needed boundaries. Or a cold shower. Possibly both.

"Get. Out." I said through gritted teeth.

He took a step in.

Slow. Deliberate. Like a predator crossing the final inches of the kill zone — except I wasn’t dying of fear, I was dying of embarrassment and unholy amounts of awareness.

"You do know this is my bathroom?" he said, voice all smooth seduction dipped in wicked amusement. "Technically, I’m letting you borrow it."

God. Of course he pulled the property ownership card.

He kept moving.

"And," he added with an insufferable smirk, "you did agree not to be out of my sight, remember? For your safety, little pet."

"Stop. Don’t come any closer," I blurted, holding up a wet, bubble-slicked hand like it was a divine shield of chastity and boundaries.

He paused.

Barely.

One dark brow arched like I’d just issued a challenge instead of a plea. His eyes — stormy and dark with the kind of heat that shouldn’t be legal — slowly dropped to the waterline, lingering just long enough to make me regret all my life choices.

My stomach flipped. Betrayer. Traitor. Useless fluttering organ.

I forced a swallow and glared, trying to remember how to use words that didn’t sound like begging or shrieking.

"You are impossible."

He grinned. Full fang this time. Bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"Impossible," he echoed, "but undeniably intriguing."

I almost screamed. But instead, I dunked myself down to my chin in the bubbles, eyes narrowed like a war general assessing her very naked, very smug, very dangerous opponent.

"You know what?" I said, voice tight. "Go flirt with the giant walk-in shower or the gold faucet or something. I’m sure they’ll be so impressed."

He laughed — actually laughed, like I was the highlight of his ancient, bloody existence.

Then, finally, finally, he turned toward the door again.

"I’ll be just outside, pet," he said over his shoulder. "Try not to drown without me."

Door clicked shut.

I exhaled hard, limbs sinking deeper into the heavenly water like they’d just survived battle.

Stupid vampire.

Stupid bathtub.

Stupid heart that wouldn’t stop racing.

I sighed and let my head fall back against the tub edge.

Fucking vampire.

Yeah, the bath was amazing, but I’d need more than bubbles to survive this madness.

BLAZE – POV

Good. Fucking. Lord.

I was way, way out of my damn element.

How was I supposed to handle this?

She was on her period. Bleeding. A human. And not just any human — mine. My beloved. And apparently, that came with a whole fucking list of side effects no one warned me about. Nobody ever thought to pull me aside in my centuries of undead life and say, "Hey Blaze, if you ever get bonded to a human girl, just know her monthly cycle will turn your demons into drooling maniacs and your logic into soup."

Do human periods affect their mates? How the hell would I know? I’ve never had a human mate before. Never wanted one. Never expected one. And yet—here I am. Vampire of over five centuries, proud, powerful, immortal—and completely brought to my knees by a bleeding, cursing, stubborn, fragile little human.

Fragile doesn’t even cover it.

Humans choke on food—the same thing they need to survive can kill them. The weather messes them up—too cold, and they get sick. Germs? Death. Falls? Death. Paper cuts? Give them enough time and even that could kill them. I did some research, alright. Injury, disease, allergic reactions, natural disasters—fuck me, humans have a million ways to die.

And yes, I did research. Extensive research.

Go ahead, laugh. A centuries-old vampire looking up "human period symptoms" and "can humans die from stubbed toes." But when she started bleeding, everything in me panicked. So I read. I learned. And I stocked up.

One minute she was moaning — over chicken — and the next, she was wheezing like a dying bird. And in that moment, for the first time in all my immortal years, I felt... panic.

Real panic.

Like the world was about to collapse because my human — my mate — might die. And not from an enemy I could rip apart. No, from food. Something that gives them life might’ve just killed her. What sort of species even is this?

How the hell has their species survived this long?

It makes no sense.

But nature’s a twisted little thing. Somehow, the universe decided to balance all that weakness with fertility and sheer numbers. They die fast—but they breed fast, too. Their women get pregnant easier than a vampire gets bloodlust. They’re fragile, emotional, constantly in danger of accidental death—and yet this is the species the Moon Goddess picked from.

And she chose her.

From them.

As mine.

It almost feels like a punishment. Yeah, sure, I’m no saint—I’m a vampire with blood on my hands, more sins than I can count, and a reputation that sends grown wolves running. But giving me a beloved who could be killed by a sharp corner? That’s cruel. That’s personal. That’s cosmic-level mockery.

And yet—I want her.

My demons want her. They’re obsessed. They growl every time she flinches away, snarl when she says another male’s name. I try to resist, but even I’m not immune to the pull. That bond—it’s poison and addiction rolled into one. She doesn’t even have to try. One glance, one breath, and I’m losing control.

When she choked earlier—on fries, of all things—I thought she was dying. Over a potato stick. And the worst part? There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t punch it. Couldn’t stab it. Couldn’t rip its throat out. I just had to watch. It felt like centuries of battle experience meant nothing.

I’ve faced vampire wars, killed with my bare hands, tortured enemies without blinking—but in that moment, I panicked. My heart? Yeah, that useless dead organ started racing. My head spun. And the second she swallowed, the relief hit me like a truck.

What the fuck is happening to me?

She makes me feel things I haven’t felt in my entire existence. Worry. Panic. Relief. Anxiety. And I hate it. I hate how much I care. I hate that I care at all.

And then I walked into the bathroom.

Don’t ask why. Ask my demons. They were howling. Screaming that she might drown. Drown—in a tub full of water and bubbles. Which sounds stupid, but with humans, nothing is impossible. I read about it when I started researching them—after she bled for the first time. And to think, I’ve lived among them for centuries, but only now—now—am I learning their ways.

Until he came along, But it didn’t last long before he was reaped from me...Then she came.

She’s the first one I’ve ever bothered to look up. The first one that matters.

And it’s not like I haven’t had her. She tasted my ambrosia that night—when I bit her and my venom seeped in. But that wasn’t enough. Not for me. I want her to choose me. Willingly. I want to know if humans feel this pull like we do, or if I’m the only one caught in it, sinking deeper by the minute.

Is it one-sided?

Does she feel anything like this?

Or am I just the monster under her bed, wearing a pretty face and a fitted shirt?

Speaking of shirts—I left her another one. A clean one. Laid it out with the bag of stuff I stole—yeah, stole. You think I’m gonna walk into a store and buy tampons, painkillers, and panties like I’m some regular guy? Hell no. Not while I’m hiding her from my family. Not while she’s still vulnerable and very much human.

I’ll turn her—eventually. But only when it’s safe. If they find out I turned her before I go through the proper channels, they’ll kill her. No second chances. No hesitation.

So yeah. I stole the supplies. I made sure she has what she needs.

Tampons, painkillers, clean panties... No bra.

Don’t ask why.

You already know why.

I’m not a saint.

And I want her in my shirt. Until my demons shut the hell up. Until her scent marks this place, marks me. Until she’s mine in every way that matters.

Gods, I need a drink.

And maybe a stake to the chest.

Because falling for a human? That wasn’t the plan.

But apparently, it’s my fate.