7: The Edge of Submission

Ava's POV

Dante was playing with me.

And the worst part? He was winning.

His words from the night before still lingered in my mind, wrapping around me like a chain I couldn’t shake. I could hear his voice, deep and unwavering, filled with the kind of authority that sent a shiver down my spine. "If you want pleasure, you’ll have to beg for it."

The arrogance. The control. The way he made it sound so easy, as if surrendering to him was inevitable.

I hated him for it.

I hated how he could unravel me without even trying. How every glance, every subtle brush of his fingers against my skin sent electricity shooting through my body, leaving me breathless and restless. He had this maddening ability to reduce me to trembling need with nothing more than a look, a whispered command, a smirk that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

But I wasn’t going to break.

No matter how much my body ached for relief, no matter how badly I wanted to give in to the pleasure he dangled just out of reach, I refused to give him that satisfaction.

I wouldn’t beg.

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The Underground Club

Dante stood in front of me, holding out a dress—a slip of black silk so thin it was nearly transparent. The fabric shimmered under the dim light, delicate and utterly indecent.

"Put this on," he said, his voice calm, unreadable.

I narrowed my eyes at him, fingers brushing over the material. "Where are we going?"

His lips curled into a smirk, dark amusement flickering in his gaze. "Somewhere you can learn a lesson in control."

A lesson.

The way he said it made my stomach tighten, anticipation mixing with unease.

Minutes later, we stepped through the doors of a hidden vampire club, deep beneath an abandoned cathedral. The moment we entered, the air around us shifted—thick with heat, desire, and something darker. The low hum of whispered pleas intertwined with moans, bodies moving together in the dim, red-lit space.

Everywhere I looked, humans willingly offered themselves to vampires, their necks exposed, their expressions blissful as they surrendered completely. Some were kneeling, some pressed against walls, some lost in private corners where fangs glinted under flickering candlelight.

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching at my sides.

This world was unlike anything I had ever known.

Dante leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Do you see them, Ava?" His voice was smooth, intoxicating. "Completely surrendered. No hesitation. No resistance."

His hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me further inside.

"This," he murmured, "is what it means to give in."

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The Test

Dante led me up a winding staircase to a private viewing room overlooking the main floor. The space was dark, enclosed by thick glass, giving us an unobstructed view of everything happening below.

I stood at the edge, my fingers gripping the railing as I watched the scene unfold beneath us.

A woman knelt before a vampire, her dress pooled around her legs, her head tilted back as he ran his hands slowly, torturously over her body. He was teasing her, drawing out every touch, every moment, making her desperate before he even sank his fangs into her skin.

My breath caught in my throat.

I felt Dante's gaze on me, not on the scene below, but on me.

He was studying every reaction, watching the way my chest rose and fell, the way my fingers trembled ever so slightly against the railing.

"You're trembling," he said softly, his voice laced with amusement.

"I'm not," I lied, refusing to turn and face him.

His fingers reached out, brushing against my wrist, then sliding up to rest lightly against my throat.

"Your body betrays you."

The way he said it sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I hated that he knew exactly what he was doing.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my chin lifting in defiance. "You brought me here to prove a point?"

Dante tilted his head, his dark eyes holding mine with quiet intensity. "I brought you here to see how long you can last before you give in."

A challenge.

One I wasn’t sure I could win.

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Lucien’s Presence

At first, I didn’t see him.

But I felt him.

A slow, creeping awareness that slithered over my skin, sending an unexplainable shiver down my spine. It was as if the air had changed, as if the very energy in the room had shifted, pressing against me in a way that made my pulse quicken.

Lucien.

I turned just as he stepped into the private lounge, his presence as commanding and effortless as ever. He was dressed in all black, the crispness of his suit a stark contrast to the raw sensuality that clung to this place. He exuded power, the kind that didn’t need to be announced—it simply existed, undeniable and inescapable.

"Quite the show, isn’t it?" His voice was smooth, his gaze flicking between me and Dante, reading every unspoken tension between us.

Dante didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

But his grip on my waist tightened.

Lucien smirked, his eyes locking onto mine, a quiet challenge gleaming in their depths.

"Tell me, Ava," he said, his voice slow, deliberate. "Does he let you feel pleasure, or does he only make you beg for it?"

I felt Dante go still beside me.

The air between them crackled with something unspoken, something sharp and dangerous.

And in that moment, I realized—Lucien wasn’t just taunting me.

He was challenging Dante.

And the war for control had only just begun.