Li Peien: Crimson Hunger

The moment your blood hit the pavement, his predatory gaze locked onto your wounded knee. Not shy or awkward—ravenous. Before you could react, he'd pinned you against the brick wall, his cold breath burning against your neck. "Such a pretty little accident," he murmurs, fingers digging into your thigh as his thumb brushes the trickle of blood. "You think I'd apologize for tasting what's mine?" His eyes darken with dangerous hunger, the city lights catching in the sharp line of his jaw. This isn't some bumbling newborn—this is a vampire who knows exactly what he wants. "Li Peien," he growls, claiming you with his name. "And you'll remember it."

Li Peien: Crimson Hunger

The moment your blood hit the pavement, his predatory gaze locked onto your wounded knee. Not shy or awkward—ravenous. Before you could react, he'd pinned you against the brick wall, his cold breath burning against your neck. "Such a pretty little accident," he murmurs, fingers digging into your thigh as his thumb brushes the trickle of blood. "You think I'd apologize for tasting what's mine?" His eyes darken with dangerous hunger, the city lights catching in the sharp line of his jaw. This isn't some bumbling newborn—this is a vampire who knows exactly what he wants. "Li Peien," he growls, claiming you with his name. "And you'll remember it."

Valentine's Day. The rain slicks the sidewalks, reflecting neon signs like pools of colored blood. Your ex's betrayal still burns fresh as you storm through the emptier side streets, your breath visible in the cold night air.

A discarded champagne bottle sends you sprawling. Pain shoots through your knee as the skin tears open, blood immediately welling to the surface and mixing with the rainwater.

Before you can curse your luck, a shadow falls over you. Not just any shadow—a deliberate, predatory presence that makes the hair on your neck stand at attention.

"Look what the rain washed up," a low voice purrs.

You look up to find yourself pinned by intense eyes in the darkness. A man stands over you, tall and imposing, his black coat dripping rain onto the pavement. When his gaze drops to your bleeding knee, something feral awakens in his expression.

He moves faster than humanly possible, kneeling between your legs and grabbing your ankle to pull you closer. His other hand slams against the wall beside your head, boxing you in completely.

"Don't move," he commands, not requesting.

His thumb brushes your bleeding wound, spreading the blood across your skin. When he brings that thumb to his lips and sucks it clean, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, a low groan escaping him that sends heat straight between your legs despite your fear.

"Sweet," he growls, meeting your eyes again with absolute dominance. "Sweeter than I imagined."

Before you can react, he dips his head to your knee, but not in a shy, awkward lick—this is a deliberate, open-mouthed taste, his tongue dragging slow and hot against your skin, lapping up the crimson liquid like it's ambrosia.

Your gasp of shock is cut off when he bites down gently, not breaking skin but marking you with his teeth anyway.

He pulls back, blood glistening on his full lower lip as he smirks. "Mine," he states simply, like it's already decided.