Lucas' grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. He slammed his fist against it, frustration surging through him. He couldn't go inside. He knew that. They weren't close. Practically strangers. Julie didn't even know him, not really. She certainly didn't expect him to show up at the hospital, not after everything that had happened.
Yet, his heart screamed otherwise.
He couldn't just leave her there—alone. Not like this. Not when she was in pain, when she was vulnerable. His mind raced in circles, trying to find a way to get to her, to make sure she was okay, to know she was safe.
But there was more. Much more.
His head throbbed with the overwhelming weight of the truth he couldn't escape—the truth about who *he* was. The Vampire King. A title that demanded power, control, distance, and most of all, the rejection of everything that could make him *weak.* Everything that could make him *human.*
And now, here he was. On the verge of losing his composure for a *human*—his mate.
The word felt alien on his tongue, like something too bitter to swallow. He hadn't asked for this. He never wanted it. He knew what a mate meant for a creature like him—it meant weakness, vulnerability, the very thing that could be exploited. He'd kept everyone at a distance for centuries, building walls around himself. But when Julie had entered his life, it had all unraveled.
Her presence in his thoughts, her laughter in his ears, even the way she looked at him had started to strip away the barriers he'd spent centuries building.
Frustration boiled up in him. He could feel the familiar hunger gnawing at the edges of his mind—the same hunger that always came when his emotions spiraled out of control. He didn't want this. He didn't want *her.* But he couldn't stop the way his chest clenched every time he thought about her, couldn't stop his heart from pounding.
He had to go to her. He couldn't leave her alone in that sterile, cold room.
---
Lucas' footsteps echoed in the corridor as he moved swiftly toward Julie's room. His mind raced with the weight of the situation, but as he turned the corner, his eyes fell on Julie's friends—leaving the room to grab something to eat.
*Perfect.*
With barely a second thought, Lucas slipped into her room, the door barely making a sound as it clicked shut behind him.
The room was dim, the soft beep of machines marking the slow rhythm of life that still clung to her fragile body.
Julie.
He stood at the edge of the room, motionless for a moment, his gaze fixed on her.
She lay there, so still. Too still.
His chest tightened. He had to get closer. To make sure she was okay. To see her up close.
Silently, he approached her, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face—her soft, rounded cheeks, the dark lashes that rested against her skin, the way her lips parted just slightly in her sleep. There was something... *ethereal* about her, like she didn't belong in a place like this, like she shouldn't be here at all.
Without thinking, Lucas reached out, his cold fingers brushing gently across her cheek. The touch was soft, barely there, but it sent a shiver through him. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and a strange wave of possessiveness surged through him, even though he knew—*knew*—he had no right to feel this way.
He traced the curve of her face with his thumb, slowly, as if trying to make sense of the situation, trying to confirm that she was real. She was... *his*... but she didn't know it. She didn't even know *him*.
His emotions were a whirlwind—rage, longing, desire, frustration. How could he possibly explain all this? The bond that had tethered them together, even though she had no idea. She wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. But he did. And it tore him apart.
Suddenly, his fingers stopped. A harsh breath left his lips, and his hand jerked back as though burned by her skin. He could feel his control slipping through his fingers, the pull of the mate bond threatening to overtake him. The reality of it—this *weakness*—was almost too much to bear.
She didn't know him. She didn't *see him* the way he saw her. She didn't even know she was *his.* The rawness of that knowledge made something inside him snap. His chest heaved as he fought to keep his composure.
Frustration flooded him, a deep, gnawing frustration that left him feeling more helpless than he had ever felt in his immortal existence. He couldn't make her see him. He couldn't make her *feel* what he was feeling, this bond, this pull.
He was the Vampire King. She was just a human.
And yet, there was nothing he could do to stop it.
---
*In the darkness of her mind, Julie could hear the faint sound of a voice. It was distorted, like it was coming from somewhere far away, but still... so familiar.*
"Mate... mate... mate... you are mine."
The voice echoed through her consciousness, a low hum that seemed to vibrate in the very air around her. She couldn't see anything, just endless, suffocating blackness. Panic rose in her chest. She needed to escape, to get out, but there was nothing—nothing to grab onto, nothing to ground her.
The voice... it was familiar. But from where?
A soft whisper replaced the voice, a sound so quiet, so close, it seemed to pulse against her skin.
Suddenly, her vision flickered, a sharp, vivid image appearing before her. Blue eyes. Eyes that pierced through the darkness, locking onto hers.
Her breath caught in her throat.
And then—*snap.* Her eyes shot open.
---
Julie gasped, sitting upright in the hospital bed, her heart hammering in her chest. Her surroundings were foreign, the sterile scent of the room, the cold, sterile walls that seemed to close in around her. Why was she here? What had happened?
But before she could gather her thoughts, her gaze shifted toward the corner of the room.
There, in the shadows, stood a figure.
Her vision was blurry, her head fogged with confusion, but the sensation was too strong. She blinked rapidly, and then she saw them—those eyes.
The same blue eyes from her dream.
Her pulse quickened. *What was happening?*
She tried to speak, but her throat was dry, the words dying on her lips. "Who... who are you?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
But before she could ask again, the sound of footsteps broke her focus. The door to her room creaked open, and in walked Sam and Misha, bickering as usual.
"What do you mean she's *fine*?" Sam muttered, clearly agitated. "She's in the hospital! How can you say that?"
"I didn't mean it like that!" Misha retorted, exasperated. "You're overreacting! She's stable, Sam."
Julie's gaze darted between the two of them, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. They didn't seem to notice she was awake yet. She could barely focus on their words. The only thing that remained in her thoughts were those *eyes*. The blue eyes that had watched her, hidden in the shadows.