I wanted to add the second chapter now, the story will be updated every second day, and there will be 15 chapters in total :)

Hope you enjoy!

The night was cold; winter was approaching quickly, so I wouldn't be surprised if there was snow in a few weeks. Maybe it was because of how cold it was that Dimitri's lips almost felt warm against mine. It was a bit rough, but it was also slow. He was taking his time, and it caught me off guard.

His tongue pressed to the seam of my lips, and I parted my lips out of instinct, tangling further with him as we both fought for dominance. It was strangely thrilling, easily appealing to the side of me that enjoyed breaking the rules.

It definitely broke a lot of them.

Dimitri growled, more of a purr, as if pleased I didn't break the kiss. I didn't push him away, and I didn't question that too much, not as I fell further under the spell of the kiss.

I felt weightless, wholly lost in the sensation; I hadn't been kissed like that in a long time.

My arms snaked around his neck as his hands took place on my waist again and drew me in, slotting our bodies together. We shouldn't fit as perfectly as we did.

I tilted my head, deepening the kiss and bravely exploring his mouth. My tongue brushed his teeth, and I felt the sharp point of a fang—it was like a bucket of water dropped on me. What the fuck was I doing?

With all of my strength, I pushed Dimitri's chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps. His brow furrowed, confused as a hand reached for me again. I didn't hesitate. I pulled out my stake and held it in front of me like a shield.

"Get the fuck out of here," I ordered; my breath quick pants. My lips were still tingling, missing the high of the kiss. It was so messed up.

He narrowed his eyes; his body tensed at the threat. I braced myself for a fight that could end badly for me, but instead, Dimitri stepped back. He smirked. "I'll see you around, Roza."

Lissa and Christian cowered back as Eddie stood guard, his stake in front of him and ready to strike any that came close. Andrews and Chelsey fought off two Strigoi while Eddie and I protected the Moroi; if we saw a clear exit, we were to take it.

It was supposed to be a fun night out at the movies, a date for Lissa and Christian for their anniversary. The nights had been quiet, and I hadn't seen Dimitri since the party two weeks ago. I never told anyone of that night, mainly because I couldn't even begin to explain it.

What reasons could I give for making out with a Strigoi?

I couldn't explain it to them, and I definitely couldn't explain it to myself. I kept wondering why Dimitri would kiss me in the first place. None of it made sense.

What was worse, my dreams involving Dimitri had changed significantly. I used to dream about fighting him and being victorious; now, I dreamt of him knocking the stake from my hand and kissing me passionately.

Lissa's fear spiked again; the bond attempted to pull me into her head, but I fought it. My stomach twisted, and I couldn't tell if it was just because of the two Strigoi I could see, or if there were more in the shadows. I knew Andrews and Chelsey could handle the two, but it was the ones I didn't know of that made me hesitant to wait out the fight.

If we became surrounded, there was little hope for us.

"Head to the van, Eddie," I instructed, taking the lead while Eddie ushered Lissa and Christian. I wasn't too worried about Lissa as long as she had Christian by her side. The van was just down the street, parked under a street light so no one could surprise us.

I felt nausea wash over me, and I could already guess who it was. Dimitri stepped out from the shadows as if he had been waiting for me, piercing eyes locked on mine. He clicked his tongue, "You shouldn't have hesitated. You waited too long to get your Moroi to safety."

I gritted my teeth, hating the truth of his words. What I hated more was the excitement that blossomed in my chest at the sight of him. Had Dimitri always looked so good? I noticed his muscular form when fighting him in the past; those muscles weren't just for show.

Another heat warmed my face but was in the form of fireballs. Two of them shot past me and grazed Dimitri as he dodged onto the road and out of our way. I looked at Eddie, and he knew to take the opening; we nodded in understanding.

I followed Dimitri onto the street and started throwing punches to force him further back while the others continued to the van. Dimitri didn't appear upset.

"Stop smiling," I scolded, managing to get a good hit to his jaw.

Dimitri snarled, surging forward and punching me in the stomach; I bowed from the hit, and a hand in my hair yanked my head back to meet his eyes. "I enjoy our dances." He licked his lips, and I stared intently at them. "Have I still been on your mind?"

I broke his grip, kicking out at him with a yell. He was trying to get under my skin, and I needed to stop letting him. I refused to have fuzzy feelings for a Strigoi, especially when I was meant to be staking him.

With new resolve, I lifted my stake and aimed for his chest. He caught my arm and punched me in the face, snapping my head back. It was the perfect opportunity for him to finish the job; I was dazed, and my neck was exposed to him.

But he didn't.

He drew me closer; a tender hand brushed my jaw where his fists had just landed. "Don't hesitate next time, Roza."

I was left bewildered, stumbling back when he released me. My vision spun and blurred; I tried to search for him, but Dimitri had disappeared from the street.

"Get to the van!" Chelsey ordered; a hand on my shoulder guiding me towards the blinding headlights.

I sat on the couch in the living room, an ice pack held to my cheek and a splitting headache. Chelsey had spent half an hour complaining about Dimitri always causing issues. She said he was stalking and tormenting us—she wasn't wrong.

At that point, I couldn't decide if he was stalking Lissa or me.

My head still thumped from the blow to my face, and yet it was his hand caressing my face that I remembered.

Lissa joined me, easing herself down with an expression of indifference, but I could feel the questions bubbling under the surface. Her finger drew circles on the cushion between us, chewing on her lip before she voiced what was on her mind.

"That Strigoi seems different to the others."

Lissa knew Dimitri's name; she was testing if I thought it too. I stared at her, refusing to acknowledge the conversation.

"He likes you," she added after a moment of silence.

"He's just playing a game until he kills me," I grumbled. It's all it was, a game—a dance.

She shifted closer, eyes searching the room before she whispered, "I think it's more than that."

I drew back, pinning her in place with a harsh look. "Liss, he's a Strigoi. All he wants is to kill me and suck you dry. The only thing I think about around him is how to kill him first." I curled my hands into fists, speaking more to myself than her. "There's nothing else but that."

Too much was going on in my head, too many emotions that weren't my own twisting and bubbling under the surface. I didn't even feel like myself. My control was slipping.

It was why I remained while the others went to Court for the Fall break. The darkness spread through me like poison and slowly took over every part, but I kept taking from Lissa. I couldn't stop, not when she was finally happy.

They went back, and I stayed to cool my head and work through my issues. Andrews told me to get my head straight if I wanted to remain Lissa's guardian, so I was. At least, I would in the morning. That night, I planned to drink until I couldn't tell up from down and enjoy the reprieve from the darkness.

I had succeeded in getting drunk, stumbling out of the bar after the new bartender questioned my ID. The last thing I needed was for them to call the cops because I was underage. They didn't care much at Court, but the humans were less relaxed.

Vodka had gone down like water; the last shot I threw back had no burn. It was the perfect amount of drunk. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't weighed down by the darkness. I didn't feel the pull of the bond that became tainted by the amount of darkness surrounding Lissa. I doubted she even noticed me taking more when she left; I wanted her to relax for a couple of days, so I did what I could.

I was her guardian, and keeping her safe was my one purpose in life.

"Don't you look good," a male voice purred from behind me. I kept walking but bumped into another man, his hands wrapped around my shoulders.

"Where are you going?" he leered at me, fingers digging in.

I peered up at them, noting the glow in their eyes, only for the panic to set in too late. The men—Strigoi—pushed me behind a building. I was drunk and barely caught myself against the brick wall. Lissa wasn't with me; I didn't think any Strigoi would give me a second look; my stake sat forgotten on my bedside table.

They shoved me again, and I cursed when my forehead hit the rough bricks; it made them laugh. "I thought guardians were meant to be strong?"

"She isn't even making us work for it."

Everything was at an angle, constantly spinning even as the red in their eyes stayed still. My limbs were sluggish, relying on the wall to keep me standing, but I had to get away. I threw a punch that only hit thin air; their responding punch hit its mark.

More blows landed until I was on my hands and knees with blood dripping from my mouth. Their laugh echoed in my head, both amused by my pitiful attempts to fight.

It was my lowest point.

I laughed as well. I was going to die alone in the city, too drunk to save my own life. At least, it was better than being driven insane by the darkness.

My head was ripped back, hair clutched in a painful bundle at the nape of my neck. I tried to breathe through the fear but I think they cracked a rib; each inhale sounded like a wheeze and hurt like a bitch.

"Bet you'll taste good." The words were the only warning given before a sharp pain in my neck made me cry out. My mind returned to the ski trip, zip ties around my wrists and Mason yelling my name. Just like then, I sighed in relief when the pain became bliss.

I felt like I was floating.

The pleasure wasn't drawn out; the fangs ripped from my throat and I was dropped to the ground without a single care. I was aware enough to hear a voice, deep rumbles that promised danger, yet made me smile instead. That voice made me feel safe even though it was accompanied by growls and the brutal sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Someone rolled me onto my back, cool hands moved across my body before one pressed to my neck. "Rose? Roza!"

It took more energy than I had to open my eyes, and they quickly closed after meeting the brown eyes from my dream. Andrews said I had a guardian angel, and I think they were hovering over me.

Were angels meant to be covered in blood and baring their teeth?

More words were hissed, I couldn't understand what they were saying and didn't try to. I felt safe with them and gave in to that feeling completely.

A sound was constant, with each second, I heard the same sound. It matched the beat of my heart. Nausea rolled through me when I tried to turn away from the sound, so I laid still. Even opening my eyes threatened to push my stomach over the edge.

I must have drunk more than I realised.

I started slowly, stretching my fingers across my sheets. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Things just felt… different.

"Are you awake now?"

That voice.

My eyes shot open, and I found Dimitri staring at me intently, perched on the edge of the bed. His eyes moved up to my hair, and he shook his head. Something damp pressed to my forehead, which made me wince. Dimitri drew back his hand with a bloodied cloth held between his fingers.

His eyes moved back to mine. "I need to clean the wounds."

"Wounds?" I repeated, my voice a harsh whisper. Talking pulled at my throat; I reached for the side of my neck—the pain was so familiar.

"Don't move too much," Dimitri reprimanded, forcing my hand back to the bed and returning the cloth to my forehead. His tone was cold, but his touch was gentle. Irritation rolled off of him, lips pressed together in a firm line and brows knitted together. "How could you be so foolish?"

My face screwed up in confusion, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory. I was still trying to figure out how Dimitri got into my room.

My fingers twitched on the sheets again, and I realised what was wrong. The sheets felt like silk, and mine weren't. Even the mattress felt firmer. I focused past Dimitri, spying a simple clock on the wall. I didn't have one of those.

"Where am I?" I asked.

Dimitri shook his head again and turned from me; the cloth dipped into a bowl on the wooden bedside table. "You're safe."

I seriously doubted that.

I tried to sit up, only to clench my teeth in pain and slump against the bed. Nausea rolled again, and my head pounded. "What did you do to me?" I bit out, shallow pants as I waited for the pain to subside.

"I saved you," he growled, eyes flashing dangerously. "How could you be irresponsible enough to be out there alone? And intoxicated? Do you wish to be killed?"

The pieces clicked. The bar and the Strigoi. I remembered only flashes after I hit my head on the bricks, but the image of Dimitri towering over me was clear. He really had saved me. "You killed the Strigoi?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

No way Dimitri killed other Strigoi because he suddenly found a soul. There had to be another reason.

Dimitri turned away from me again, gathering the bowl and cloth before he stood. "Because, Roza, I will be the one to kill you. No one else."

The words sent a chill down my spine but didn't spike the same fear it might have a month ago. I watched him walk away, disappearing through a doorway on the far side of the room. The place wasn't large; unsurprisingly, there weren't any windows. The only way I could tell the time was the clock on the wall, but I had no idea if it was four in the morning or afternoon.

When I tried to sit up again, the room spun as it usually did after a night of drinking. Or after being beaten so badly it hurt to move.

I had no idea what to expect a Strigoi's room to look like—honestly, I expected them to just live in the sewers or an abandoned building. Dimitri had an actual apartment with books and a television; hell, there was even a DVD player. It made him seem more normal than he was. Almost human.

Dimitri returned to the main room with the bowl in hand; he passed the coffee table in front of the couch and picked up a plastic bag. He dropped the bag in my lap and sat on the edge of the bed again. The cloth floated in clean water; Dimitri wrung the water out before he returned to cleaning the blood from my forehead.

He didn't say anything for a while, and I had no idea what to say. I was literally in a Strigoi's lair. I had no idea if I would even be able to get out of there alive.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked. It wasn't like I had anything to lose if he had already made up his mind.

"You think I would tend to your wounds just to kill you?"

I shrugged weakly. "I don't know what to think with you anymore."

I used to think a Strigoi was a mindless beast killing just to feed, and now I knew that they were calculating. But Dimitri was something else altogether. Why did he kiss me? Why did he search for me? Why did he kill the Strigoi to save me?

Why did he make me feel safe?

My thoughts stuttered to a stop when his fingers brushed my hair back and the cloth pressed to my neck. I inhaled sharply at the memory of being bitten. "Wait—"

"Don't worry, Roza. I have no intention of biting you. Not when there is still a fresh bite."

My heart sped up, and I knew he could hear it.

Dimitri paused and made a soft sound in the back of his throat. "This wasn't your first bite, was it?"

I tried to pull away, "I don't need your help." Dimitri's hand cupped the back of my head and made me look at him; his lips curled up into a smirk.

"You like the pleasure they bring, don't you?"

My heart pounded in my chest; blood rushed in my ears as I flushed in shame. I knocked his hands away, and Dimitri released me with a chuckle. He had his answer.

"You don't need to fear me."

"You're a Strigoi," I snapped.

"Call it a truce then," he offered, "I won't hurt you, and you don't try to hurt me."

My eyes narrowed. "I will kill you."

He laughed again, full-bodied and with a smile full of teeth. "In your current condition, I highly doubt that."

I wanted to argue, punch that stupid grin right off his face and make him realise he underestimated me, but the bastard was right. Everything hurt, and I didn't have the strength to fight him without a weapon. I hated to even consider it, but I was making a deal with a Strigoi. "Fine. Truce."

"Good girl."

Dimitri cleaned all the blood from my face and neck and even went so far as to offer a shirt for me to wear while I washed the blood from my clothes. The plastic bag in my lap had bandages, painkillers, a Gatorade, and some food. When I gave him a weird look, he sighed and replied about remembering how to help a dhampir recover from blood loss.

I forgot that he used to be one of us; Andrews said he was turned only a couple of months before he first attacked us outside the university.

The shirt Dimitri lent was a soft cotton, big enough that the hem reached halfway down my thighs and I had to roll the sleeves to find my hands. If I told Eddie that a Strigoi saved me and then gave me a shirt to wear, he would call me crazy.

Maybe I was.

Maybe it was all a part of the darkness driving me to madness, to trust a Strigoi wouldn't kill me the moment they grew bored of me.

Dimitri lounged on his grey couch; up against the wall with a bookshelf beside it. What was more comical was that he was reading a Western. He didn't look up at me, eyes focused on the pages as he read. There wasn't much emotion on his face, more like he was just going through the motions of reading rather than enjoying it.

I stood in the middle of the room, and asked, "So what now?"

"You wait for your clothes to dry," he replied in a bored tone.

"And then what? Are you going to let me leave?"

That drew his attention, and he closed the book, taking strange care to place the bookmark and return the book to the shelf. Dimitri stood from the couch and eyed me—it felt like he was appraising me, looking for any crack or flaw.

He tilted his head again. "You never told me why you were out last night."

I became defensive, crossing my arms over my chest. "Like that's any of your business."

"The Princess isn't in town, and yet you are here, alone," Dimitri continued as he advanced towards me. "You go out at night without a weapon and put yourself in danger. Why?"

"I was blowing off steam."

He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my chin back so I had to look at him. "There's something different about you. Something darker."

I would have laughed if I wasn't so shocked. No one else noticed—even Lissa appeared oblivious to my downward spiral—yet Dimitri did. I licked my lips, twisting my fingers in the fabric of the shirt to hide the tremor. "Darker?"

"Is it part of your bond?"

I swallowed. "Why do you care?"

Dimitri stepped closer, breath fanning my cheeks. "I told you; you intrigue me." A shiver moved through my body, but it wasn't from fear. I stayed still as he leaned closer until all I could smell was the scent of pine and leather. "There are nights where you are all I think about. Your face is all I see. The sound of your voice is all I hear."

Barely an inch remained between us. It wouldn't take much to close the distance.

"Your lips are the only thing I want to taste."

I shouldn't…

"You are all I want, Roza."

I moved first. My hands curled around the collar of his shirt, and I rose on my toes to press my lips to his. I had dreamt of our kiss, relived it over and over in my mind, and I desperately craved to experience it again.

It was stupid to risk my life for a kiss, but I wanted it. I needed it.

I needed Dimitri.

And with my life in the hands of a truce with a Strigoi, I gave into my need.