Page 1 of Bitten Vampire

Chapter One

The front door slams,and my heart jolts. A sharp blend of dread and anticipation twists in my chest. I drop the tea towel on the counter and rush into the hallway.

“Perfect timing! Dinner’s nearly ready. I made your favourite.”

Jay shrugs off his snow-dusted coat. “Hi, babe.” He kisses my cheek, and as he squeezes past, clips my collarbone with his bony elbow.

I gasp and rebound off the wall.

“You okay down there, shorty?”

“It’s all right. My fault.” I wince and rub the throbbing spot.

He’s never had good spatial awareness. He’s all elbows and knees, and I ought to know better than to greet him inthe narrow hallway. Besides, he’s always extra clumsy after working late.

He vanishes into the kitchen, the smell of Chinese food wafting from the brown bag he’s carrying.

Oh no.I hurry after him.

“I—I cooked. I said I’d cook.” The once-cosy kitchen suddenly feels stifling.

He waves me off. “Yeah, yeah, but I don’t fancy your cooking tonight. I wanted a takeaway.” Without even looking at me, he dumps the bag, tears it open, and yanks out a plastic carton. Sauce splatters the spotless white countertop as he lifts the lid. He doesn’t wipe it—doesn’t even notice—just snatches a fork and strides into the living room with his prize.

Jay slumps in the recliner and kicks up his feet, the television droning while he shovels food into his mouth as though he hasn’t eaten in days.

My hands clench at my sides.Hours.I spent hours perfecting a Beef Wellington, yet he couldn’t be bothered to text and say he had other plans. I grind my teeth when a blob of orange sauce splashes onto his shirt. He curses, pinches the fabric to his lips, and licks the stain away.

I average fourteen-hour days. On my single day off, I scrubbed the house until it gleamed, ironed his shirts, and cooked his favourite meal. The least he could do was eat it.

But arguing changes nothing.

Over the past year he has been busy—entertaining mysterious clients, coming home at all hours—and through it all I’ve supported him and the family business. I handle the marketing, yet somehow I have become the office dogsbody: accounts, payroll, even coffee runs. I do so much thatthere are never enough hours in the day, but we are supposed to be working towards something—our future.

I force my shoulders to drop, unclench my fists, and flex my fingers. No reason to lose my temper. He means nothing by it. Fighting with him just shuts him down further. I can count on my fingers how many times I have managed to win an argument.

Besides, there’s something more important we need to discuss tonight.

I watch him, silently rehearsing the speech I have run through my head a thousand times. I have listened to countless motivational podcasts to work up my nerve. I deserve to ask for what I want.

We have been together ten years. In that time, we have celebrated everyone else’s engagements and weddings. Never ours.

In the Human Sector, marriage isn’t merely romantic; it’s protection from being snatched off the street and turned into a creature’s plaything. Being human is dangerous in a world of monsters. Long-term relationships without marriage count for little in our laws and theirs.

But Jay doesn’t see it that way.

I never wanted to beg for a ‘shut-up ring,’ to nag for commitment. Jay’s a free spirit—marriage isn’t for him, and for years I pretended I was fine with that. But I’m not.

Mum’s voice still echoes:“Why would a man buy the cow if he’s getting the milk for free?”I detest that saying. Yet perhaps she wasn’t entirely wrong. I thought time would change his mind.

Ten years. Deep down, I cringe. I thought I was doing right by him, putting his needs before mine. But I’m fortynow. Each birthday gnaws at me; friends’ pitying looks pile up, and my doubts grow louder. What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t the man I love want to marry me? Each special occasion, I hold my breath, thinking,Is today the day?And every time, nothing.

The disappointment chips away at me until I barely recognise myself.

No more. I’ve invested too much to leave without a fight. I hope he will meet me halfway, catch me when I leap from that proverbial cliff, admit he’s been a fool and is finally ready to commit.

Together we could have a happy and safe life.

I reach for the remote and switch off the television.