Page 50 of BLOOD LUST | YANDERE VAMPIRES

Not because anything happened, just because of how still everything was.

The hallways of Auragon were always majestic—ornate arches, candlelit sconces, and windows as tall as trees. But at night, they seemed like monuments to something older. Something is watching.

Their footsteps echoed as a five-beat rhythm. No one spoke. No one dared.

Y/N walked a little faster than them, clutching her phone, a glowing orb, tightly in her palm. The glow felt like the only real thing. It wasn't that she feared one of them would hurt her—it was that all four of them were... too close.

Too intense. Too quiet.

They were predators walking slowly behind her, but not to hunt her.

At the dormitory door, Y/N turned back. The boys stopped a few paces away, like invisible strings held them just outside her personal boundary. It was a strange tableau—one light between them, four shadows cast behind it.

"You can all go now," she said, her voice quieter than she meant.

No one moved.

Azul nodded once, like he was conceding a request rather than agreeing. Silas looked vaguely amused. "Sweet dreams, Y/N."

While Adrian's lips twitched, the look in his eyes wasn't a smile. "Night, Y/N, lock your door."

Calixto said nothing; he didn't look away, not even as she pushed the door open.

She stepped inside, paused, and glanced back one last time.

Four figures.

Four gazes.

Four storms, waiting to break.

She shut the door before she could think too long about why her heart was pounding.

It wasn't fear that unsettled her most, but the heat curling just beneath it.

Meanwhile, just outside her door, the shadows around them seemed to deepen, not from the lack of light, but from the sudden, terrifying weight of each of their dark thoughts.

? ★ ?

The next morning welcomed the weekend with quiet early halls, which stood empty.

Not the usual kind of quiet that settled after day broke, when the academy woke from its slumber beneath velvet skies—but a heavier, colder quiet. The kind that thickened the air. That made even the click of your shoes against stone feel like an intrusion.

Usually the students would be allowed out of school walls on the weekend, but from recent situations, everyone seemed to be confining themselves to their dorms.

Y/N wasn't sure why her feet had brought her here.

She told herself it was nothing. Just air. Just space. Just a walk to clear her head after being caged for too long within her dorm, like everyone else, which she considered the safest and all that coiled silence.

But she knew where she was going. She had known the second she slipped out the door, glancing back once to the other two sleeping figures still snugly tucked away in their beds.

When the weekends arrived, the strict segregation of the dorms dissolved, replaced by a thrilling, unspoken permission for students to mingle.

Y/N emerged from the communal hum of the girls' dorm, a quiet resolve in her step. Her feet, guided by an instinct deeper than conscious thought, seemed to pull her forward, overriding any lingering hesitation.

She inhaled sharply, the moist morning air cool and invigorating against her skin, as she followed this undeniable current, her path leading her inexorably towards the other side of campus—towards the male dormitories.

? ★ ?

She found him exactly where she'd hoped and feared he'd be—alone at the far side of the east courtyard, leaning against a crumbling stone railing, half-silhouetted in moonlight. The wind teased at his blonde locks, and for a moment, she just watched him from the archway.

He looked carved from something ancient. Wild, beautiful, yet tragic all at once. Like something that could never fully be hers.

Y/N cleared her throat softly.

He turned.

His eyes found her instantly—sharp, unreadable. And yet, something flickered across his expression. Not surprised. Not warmth. Something more cautious. More resigned.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, voice low, rough at the edges.

"Woke up early.." she replied, stepping forward, the gravel crunching beneath her. "Too many thoughts." Calixto didn't answer. He turned back to the open sky, shoulders tight beneath his coat.

She shifted quietly to stand beside him, close enough that if either of them swayed—just slightly—their arms might brush. The silence between them settled like a weight, heavy but not entirely unwelcome.

It was thick with unsaid things, memories neither of them had yet dared to name aloud.

For a while, they simply stood there, side by side beneath the dim corridor lights. The world outside the tall windows had grown dark and hushed. It felt like they were the only two people awake in the academy.

Then, almost too softly, she broke the silence. "..Do you remember the party?"

His jaw tightened at the words, the muscle ticking once before stilling again.

"Y/N, I shouldn't have—" He started, but she shook her head gently before he could finish.

"I'm not here to blame you," she murmured. Her voice was quiet but steady, carrying the kind of honesty that left no room for pretence. "I just—I felt something that night. Didn't... you?"

Still, he didn't look at her. His gaze remained fixed ahead, trained on some far-off point only he could see. When he finally answered, his voice was low, almost hoarse. "That's not the point."

Her brows drew together. "Then what is it?"

There was a long pause before he turned toward her, slow and reluctant, like the act itself cost him something. And when their eyes met, it stole the breath from her chest.

There, just beneath the cool surface of his expression, was the ache. The storm. Want and restraint are at war with one another.

"You don't understand what you're doing to them," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Or to me."

She blinked, throat tightening. "Whatever you're talking about, I—I didn't ask for any of this—?"

"No," he agreed, and now there was something bitter in his tone. "But you're in it now. And they're watching. Always watching. They saw me get too close—and now they're circling. Like dogs."

Y/N's breath hitched. Her voice, when it came, was raw around the edges. "You think I don't feel it? I can't move, can't breathe without one of you turning it into some game I never agreed to play. I didn't come here to be fought over—"

His eyes darkened. "Maybe not. But you came here all the same."

The words struck harder than she expected, and she flinched as though he'd physically hit her. Something fragile inside her cracked. "I thought—I thought I could talk to you..?"

Calixto closed his eyes for a moment, long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. And when he spoke again, his voice was quieter—colder, but trembling faintly at the edges, like something barely held together.

"If I touch you again, Y/N.." He exhaled, sharp and shallow. His pupils dilated, swallowing the grey of his irises until only a ring of steel remained—and below his top lip, just for a second, the faintest glint of his fangs. "I won't stop."

Then he stepped past her, brushing her shoulder with the softest graze as he moved. It was barely a touch—just enough to leave a burn in its wake. "And I don't think I'll be the only one."

He didn't look back.

And she didn't stop him.

Not because she didn't want to—but because he never gave her the chance.