Bite Me Forever

2052. The Bunker.

The last thing I should be doing is thinking about him. I need to leave this rotten city. If they find me, I'm dead. I should get out of this disgusting mattress this very instant and do something useful. Why the hell do I keep thinking about him instead? The man who ruined me. The man who made me his slave. Viktor Volkov.

I stand up in a rush and ensure the bunker doors are sealed. The image of his piercing, pale blue eyes comes to my mind while I peruse the shelves looking for a knife. Stop. I need to stop. I shouldn't think about the man who took my virginity... and my humanity. I shouldn't be thinking about his muscular arms, his dark hair drenched with sweat, the way he would say "Lucy" under his breath, his moans of pleasure when I put my lips to his naked chest and ran my hand down to his waist until I reached... No. The sweeter the memory, the more acute the pain.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Even now, hundreds of years later, I remember every little detail. Especially those first weeks and that fateful night when I succumbed to him. His fangs penetrating my skin, the blood pouring hot from my neck.

I should hate him for it. I should hate Viktor. Every shitty thing that happened to me after that night was because of him. And yet... I wish I could feel his skin against mine once more. I wish he were here to take me away.

CHAPTER ONE

Married to a Vampire

1825. Volkov Manor, Scotland.

My life felt like a bad dream, and I wished someone would wake me up. I raised the lantern and peered through the carriage window, taking note of the dark woods along the quiet road.

The sharp calls of birds from afar and the ambience's quietness told me no human inhabited the environment. I wasn't quite taken aback because Viktor Volkov was the weirdest man I'd seen in my entire life. Just when I thought I would remain the oldest single lady in England--after James jettisoned me on the altar--my father had to compel me to marry a mysterious man I only met twice. A foreigner with a Russian accent and beautiful eyes who seemed completely uninterested in me.

It was simple. My father was in debt and had to marry me off to a man who was fairly flushed in the pocket. That way, he'd pay all the people he owed and also marry me off to avoid ruining the family's reputation. I couldn't blame my father since I wasn't sexy and pretty enough to keep James; at least, I could help him by consenting to the marriage just to save the Goldman from the scorn and disdain they got since James eloped with his bewitching maid on our wedding day.

The truth was, I was more abashed of myself than my father was. Even though I detested this Viktor and at times pondered on how to abscond--here I was, travelling several miles away from England to his manor in Scotland. I presumed my past was behind me, and now, I couldn't stop wondering what the future had in store for Viktor and me.

My thoughts halted as soon the carriage stopped moving. When I gawked through the window again, it was twilight. Curiously, I gathered my dress's hem and stepped out of the carriage, gazing at the dark orange manor before me. It had tall, thin windows with a small pane of glass, and huge oak trees stood by the sides. As I walked near the door, a strong earthy smell wafted into my nostrils, making me feel like someone lost in the forest.

Silence lingered in the air like a tomb, except for the starling's blaring chorus. Just behind the manor was a mountain cliff that made the environment sightly, but I couldn't stop wondering why he chose to reside in isolation. Under the dark blue sky, I saw some magpies dancing from the garden to the footpath as if delighted with my presence.

It was so strange! What sort of man resided in the forest where birds and other creatures were predominant? My eyes darted to where the coachman was, but he had disappeared; he must have left after offloading my luggage next to the wall. Intense fright gripped me when I realised I was alone in the garden. Quickly, I knocked at the door, anticipating my handsome but odd husband's presence.

I had only seen him twice. Once, when he visited my father late at night to discuss a few details about the wedding. I had to spy on them to see the kind of man my father was marrying me to. He was undoubtedly attractive --pale skin and dark hair, tall, strong and impeccably dressed. The second time I saw him was the day of our wedding. The ceremony was held almost in secret, with none of his family attending. After the vows were spoken and the deal was sealed, he left in a rush. He didn't even bother to say goodbye. Would his behaviour towards me be different this time?

I was shrouded in a fitted white dress, with a poofy upper sleeve, over an elbow-length pair of matching gloves. To maintain an acceptable beauty standard, I pulled my blonde hair into a simple bun, and my face was framed with a series of small curls. Despite my glittery hair embellishments, fitted dress, smooth pale complexion, and red-tinted lips, deep down, I didn't feel beautiful enough. If I were appealing, James wouldn't have abandoned me on our wedding day, and Viktor would have at least lustly gawked at me. However, it seemed I wasn't good enough for any man.

Standing in front of his door reminded me that I was nothing but the product of a successful business transaction. My heart leapt when the door flung open. I thought Viktor would show up to welcome me, at least, as a sign of respect, but a pretty lady with corn-coloured hair stood before me. She wore a neat and simple attire, and her hair was packed into a ponytail.

"Welcome, ma'am. Please, come in." She curtseyed and moved aside before I stepped inside the massive chamber. Judging by the accent edging her English, I could tell she was French.

The high ceilings, exotic chandeliers, pillars at the room's centre, colourful artworks on the wall and furniture in the great chamber said so much about Viktor's attention to aesthetics--the first humane thing I knew about him.

"I'm Eponine, the maid of the house." The maid's voice reached my earshot, and I spun to face her. "Your chamber is this way, ma'am." She gestured to the stairs, and I inclined my head.

"Thank you, miss Eponine."

She led the way to the top floor, and I trailed behind her, still gawking at the comely chamber.

A moment after strolling in the passageway, she stopped in front of a door. Just then, another door in the passageway swung open, and Viktor stepped out, looking as handsome as the first day I had set my eyes on him.

He wore a tailored jacket, waistcoats, pants, and a linen shirt with an attached cravat around the neck. His dark curly hair was well-groomed, and he retained a few artfully arranged locks over his forehead. He had broad shoulders and a strong jaw. His icy blue eyes held my stare, and goosebumps covered me from head to toe. I expected him to say something, but he was silent. I bit my lip in anticipation. He was even more dashing than I remembered, and I cursed him for that.

Eponine turned the doorknob and stepped inside the room, making us break our eye contact.

"Please." Eponine stood aside and gestured that I enter the room.

When I was about to say something to him, Viktor suddenly turned around without a word, his shoes resonating in the hallway as he strolled away. I looked back again, wondering why Viktor ignored me. A throbbing twinge on my knees told me I needed to rest, so I stepped inside.

"Your meal is ready, miss. Come to the dining room when you're willing." She curtseyed and walked outside. When she shut the door, I gazed at the wide, neat bedchamber for a while before collapsing on the bed. The maid sounded overly dutiful and unamiable. I couldn't understand why she acted in that manner. Did I do something to offend her? Well, I was in the house already, and perhaps, I needed to take a relaxing bath before thinking of what next to do. One thing was certain; I was the house's mistress but not of Viktor's heart.

***

I had the most vexing dinner of my life. Although the food smelled delicious, I had to wait a whole hour for Viktor to even show up at the table, so everything got cold. When he finally sat at the table, he didn't address me or even look at me. Instead, he poured himself a glass of red wine filled to the top and started drinking as if I wasn't in the room. I was expecting him to apologise for being late, so I asked if he had been attending some business. He shrugged, and that was the end of our conversation. After he hurriedly drank the entire glass of wine, he left almost immediately without touching any dishes served. Was I invisible to him? Did he despise me? I felt so ashamed and angry that I couldn't make myself swallow any food.

Hot with rage, I drew out my gown, tossed it on the bed and pulled off my corset. Still a bit teary, I massaged my breasts, wondering why no man wanted me. I walked near the mirror beside the bed, gazing at my nude body. No man had ever touched my breasts, let alone made me feel like a woman. I was in decent shape, and my skin was flawless, yet my husband, Viktor, hadn't said a word to me, much less held me against his tense body.

Suddenly, the door flung open, and Viktor was standing by the door when I spun around. His chiseled torso was naked and glittering with sweat, and I could only imagine feeling his turgid body on mine. Honestly, I was befogged at how I simultaneously loved and hated this man. My heart rolled in my chest as his eyes fell on my breasts. Oh, God! It's going to happen...