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

One moment, I was pinned against the wall.

The next—

I was being dragged into the unknown, carried by something—someone—moving too fast.

Faster than a motorcycle.

Faster than my screams could escape my throat.

The wind whipped past me, burning my skin, suffocating me with the sheer speed of it all. My lungs strained for air, my vision blurred, and my brain—my fragile, human brain—couldn’t keep up.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t possible.

But it was happening.

My body slammed against the cold, stone floor before I even realized we’d stopped.

Pain shot up my side. My palms scraped against the rough surface as I scrambled backward, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

I was in a room—no, not just a room.

A tower.

Dark. Ancient.

The air was thick, heavy, suffocating, carrying the scent of dust, stone, and something metallic—something I didn’t want to name.

I pushed myself into the nearest corner, pressing against the cold walls like they could swallow me whole and hide me from whatever he was.

Blaze.

He stood in front of me, unbothered, unaffected, watching.

His eyes—

Red.

Glowing, like embers in the dark.

And his mouth—

His lips curled into a wicked, knowing smirk, baring teeth.

No—fangs.

My entire body went rigid.

No.

No.

I wasn’t seeing this.

I couldn’t be seeing this.

Either I was hallucinating, or Blaze was actually a fucking vampire.

My feeble, desperate mind scrambled for logic, for an explanation, something that didn’t involve the terrifying reality slamming into me. freёwebnoѵel.com

Contacts?

Fake teeth?

Some sick joke?

But how could I explain the way he moved?

The way he ran—no, flew—through the halls with inhuman speed?

How could I explain the power rolling off him, suffocating, consuming?

I was trapped in a nightmare.

A living, breathing horror movie.

And I was the helpless, pathetic human at its center.

Blaze tilted his head slightly, his red eyes flashing with amusement.

Like I was something interesting.

Like I was something weak.

I shuddered.

And then—

His expression shifted.

The amusement vanished.

And something cold—something dark—replaced it.

His next words sliced through the air like a blade.

"What were you doing with that mutt?"

Mutt?

I blinked. My lips parted, but no words came out.

What—

Dog?

I hadn’t seen a single dog since I got here.

What the hell was he talking about?

My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but I couldn’t. Nothing made sense.

Was this campus a mental asylum, and no one bothered to tell me?

Or had I truly stumbled into something I was never supposed to see?

Blaze took a slow step forward, and the room felt smaller.

His presence was like a storm, pressing in, closing off all the air, all the light.

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Because I knew.

I knew.

That this time—

No one was coming to save me.

"You are not allowed to be with him—or anywhere near thirty feet from him or his stupid gang. Got that?"

Blaze’s voice was cold, sharp, and final.

He crouched in front of me, his inky black eyes locked onto mine, but I knew better now. I had just seen those same eyes glowing red like fresh blood in the dark, had just been dragged here at an impossible speed, had just been manhandled like I weighed nothing.

And I knew.

I knew what he was.

What he could do.

But my mind—weak, fragile, human—refused to fully accept it.

Not yet.

Not when the implications of it were too terrifying to process.

So I clung to something smaller. Something I could grasp onto.

Who was he talking about?

My mind scrambled through the only possible answer.

Reed.

Yeah. That made sense.

Blaze and Reed hated each other. That much was obvious. But why did he call him a mutt?

The way he spat the word like it was the worst insult in existence—like it was something filthy.

Was the hatred that deep?

Or... was it something else?

I barely realized I was nodding—vehemently, like my life depended on it.

Because maybe it did.

I wasn’t planning on going anywhere near Reed.

Or my current tormentor, Blaze.

Nope.

I wanted the hell away from both of them.

As soon as he let me go—if he let me go—and I was still in one piece, I was out.

I wasn’t staying in this twisted school.

I wasn’t studying in the same campus as Blaze, a fucking vampire.

I wasn’t about to live in some horror-movie version of Twilight.

Because let’s be real—

Blaze?

He was nothing like Edward.

He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t brooding in a lovesick, tragic way.

He was predatory.

He was a nightmare.

And right now?

I was trapped in his domain.

Blaze’s cold fingers grasped my chin, tilting my face from left to right, his sharp eyes analyzing me like I was nothing more than a specimen under a microscope.

Like I was something to be examined, assessed, inspected—

Or worse.

Judged.

My stomach twisted as his gaze dragged over my features, slow and deliberate, like he was searching for something. Recognizing something.

I swallowed hard.

He wasn’t about to see through me, was he?

I had been careful—so, so careful—wrapping my chest, changing my voice, making sure not to move or act like a girl.

But what if he knew?

What if he had already figured it out?

I braced myself, heart pounding, but then—

"Huh." His grip on my chin tightened just slightly before he murmured, almost to himself, "You look... familiar."

Oh.

Oh.

I exhaled shakily.

Not because I was relieved—but because I knew exactly what he was seeing.

Clark.

He was likening me to Clark. My dead twin.

I forced myself to stay still, to act as if the comment meant nothing to me, even as my heart screamed inside my ribcage.

He couldn’t pin the dots.

He wouldn’t.

I just had to make sure he chalked it up to a coincidence.

I just had to—

His fingers twitched.

And then his grip slid.

Slowly, deliberately—his hand began tilting my head further.

Further.

Further—

Toward my neck.

I stiffened.

My breath hitched in my throat as realization slammed into me.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He was going to see my neck.

He was going to see my pulse.

He was going to hear it—racing, thumping, pumping with fear.

And then—

Then, what?

Would he snap?

Would he sink his teeth into me, right here, right now?

Would I die before I even got the chance to run?

Panic was a live wire beneath my skin, sparking, crackling.

I tried not to breathe.

I tried not to exist.

Because if I moved—if I so much as twitched—

I had a feeling I would never leave this room alive.