Chapter 80: When His Name Came Between Us
{CAROLINE}
"I wasn’t looking for him," I added quickly. "I was searching for you. I went to the lake in where you frequented to, but you’re not there."
She said nothing, and I continued, oblivious to the dark air circling around her.
"I was on my way back when Valerius and his two lackeys blocked my path," I continued, the words spilling faster now that they’d begun. "They attacked me. I fought back—but Valerius was too fast. Without my arcane, I couldn’t keep pace. It’s unjust, truly. Humans are forbidden the very power we might use to defend ourselves, while these creatures of the night move with impossible speed and strength, even stripped of magic."
Her jaw tightened.
"Then Lord Vladimir appeared," I said. "He saved me. I don’t know why—only that he did. He didn’t kill them, though. Something else happened. You won’t believe it."
Silence stretched between us.
I went on, my voice dropping, "He drank my blood—and told me I belonged to him. As if I were nothing more than a human blood bank. Can you imagine that? Me. Who does he think he is? Noble vampire or not, he had no right—no right at all—to claim me without my consent. Arrogant. Rude. As though my will meant nothing."
"Arrogant... Rude...," she murmured, her face darkening.
"Yes," I nodded. "He said it was the only way to keep the others from targeting me. Morgana. The rest of them."
"He said it was only for show," I added. "That he doesn’t even keep human blood banks. That this was just... necessity."
I let out a weak laugh. "As if that makes it any better."
I didn’t notice at first how often his name slipped from my lips.
Vladimir Nightborne.
"He didn’t have to step in," I said. "That’s what confuses me. He could have ignored it. Ignored me. But he didn’t. I wonder why though. I mean, we didn’t have any interactions until now. Could it be that . . . he was planning something to me?"
Iris’s fingers curled slowly into the blanket.
"And he bit you," she said. It wasn’t a question.
"Yes," I answered honestly. "He drank my blood."
Her eyes darkened.
"But it wasn’t something I wanted," I said immediately. "I was frightened. I wasn’t thinking clearly. And afterward, he healed the wound completely. There isn’t even a mark left."
My hand rose to my neck without my permission.
"He said I wouldn’t survive otherwise," I continued. "Without magic, without protection... I was exposed because I was human. Apparently, humans here sought other powerful creatures’ protection in exchange for their blood."
She was quiet for a long time.
Too quiet.
I kept speaking, unable to stop myself—not because I wanted to talk about him, but because the night still clung to me, unresolved.
"He was cold," I said. "With the other vampires, he was terrifying. They backed down instantly. I’ve never seen anything like it."
I paused.
Only then did I realize how often I’d said he.
How often his presence threaded my words.
Iris exhaled sharply.
"You say his name a lot."
I frowned. "What?"
"Since you woke me," she said, sitting up now, her voice tight. "It’s Vladimir this. Vladimir that. His actions. His choices. His reasons."
"That’s because he was involved," I said, confused. "He’s part of what happened to me."
"You sound like he mattered," she replied quietly. "Do you like him?"
The words struck deeper than I expected.
"I’m just recounting events," I said. "I don’t like him."
Her eyes flicked to mine—searching.
"Then why don’t you sound angry?" she asked. "Why don’t you sound disgusted?"
"Because I’m still trying to process it," I snapped. "I was nearly killed."
"That’s not what I mean," she said, standing now. "You don’t talk about him like someone you hate."
I shook my head. "You’re reading too much into this."
"No," Iris said sharply. "You don’t even realize you’re doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Defending him."
"I’m explaining what he did," I insisted.
"You justify him every time I question it," she shot back.
"Because you weren’t there," I said—and immediately regretted it.
Her face hardened.
"And you were," she said. "You were there with him."
"That’s not—"
"Do you know how I yearned for his attention?" she interrupted, her composure cracking at last. "How I wanted to be by his side even just his blood bank?"
I froze.
Her voice lowered, trembling—not with fear, but with restraint pushed too far.
"He never looks at anyone," Iris said. "Not humans. Not vampires. Not even the nobles who throw themselves at him. He keeps everyone at arm’s length."
Her gaze locked onto mine.
"And then suddenly," she continued, "he steps in for you. Marks you. Claims you."
Understanding struck—slow and painful.
"You like him," I said softly.
Her breath hitched.
Silence answered me.
"That’s why you’re angry," I whispered, dread curling through me—confusion sharper still at the sudden turn of events.
Since when did Iris care for Lord Vladimir? Wasn’t she a first-year like me? Wasn’t this the first time she had ever laid eyes on him? Or had they met before—long before I ever knew?
She spoke as though she knew him. Not by reputation. Not by rumor. But personally.
And yet... wasn’t she a werewolf?
Was she truly in love with a vampire?
Her fists clenched and she forced a bitter smile. "Like? What I felt for him . . . is no something that could be summarise with just a like."
What did she mean by that?
I answered gently, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I’m not interested in him, Iris. Not like that. I don’t trust him. I don’t even understand him. And there is no world in which I would like a vampire."
I shook my head, frustration tightening my chest. "Someone like him would never choose a weak human without reason. He must be plotting something. Using me for it."
Her shoulders trembled once before she turned away.
"I just don’t like that he chose you," she said quietly. "If you don’t want to be his blood bank, then..." Her voice faltered. "Could you give that position to me?"
I was stunned. "W-what... what are you talking about, Iris?" My voice faltered. "You’re a werewolf, aren’t you? Do you really like him that much—to choose him over your pride? Aren’t vampires supposed to be your sworn enemies?"
Iris gave a small, sorrowful smile—one that held no warmth at all.
"Werewolf?" she echoed softly. "Pride?" Her gaze drifted away. "Did any of that ever matter? It certainly didn’t save me from anything..."
"Huh?" I breathed.
She shook her head. "Nothing. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything."
After that, neither of us spoke, and our relationship got fractured.
I thought I would be alone again—but once more, Lord Vladimir intervened. Because of his claim, word spread through the school with unsettling speed, branding me as his blood bank—regardless of my wishes, regardless of my protests.
And because of that, everyone left me alone.
Everyone... except Iris.
With all eyes no longer on me, their attention shifted. Morgana and her lackeys turned their focus to Iris instead—and she bore the weight of it alone.
