I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Drake’s pov

"A monster."

Lysander’s words spun in a relentless loop through my head as I stared down at his limp, spent form. The second his release had hit him, his body had given out completely, slipping into unconsciousness, unable to handle the pleasure anymore.

My cock remained hard as I pulled out of him, slipping free with a slick, wet sound. His inner thighs were painted in the mess, the sheets beneath him ruined.

For a long, heavy moment, I just stood over him, watching his face. In sleep, his features were entirely smooth, stripped of the hostility that had filled them just moments prior. The unadulterated hatred that had burned in his eyes before he passed out had caught me off guard, freezing me in my tracks.

It was the exact same look Julian had given me on the night I changed him.

Forcing the bitter memory back down, I turned and walked into my ensuite bathroom. Stepping under the stream of the shower, I rinsed away the sweat and fluids clinging to my skin. Once clean, I pulled on a fresh set of clothes from the closet.

Lysander hadn’t stirred when I walked back into the bedroom.

Taking a damp cloth from the sink, I gently wiped down his skin, cleaning him as best I could. He remained completely motionless. If not for the faint, steady pulse humming beneath his skin, I would have assumed his heart had stopped entirely.

Carefully, I pulled the ruined comforter out from beneath him, leaving him on the bare fitted sheet. It was stained too, but far better off than the duvet. Dropping the dirty linen into the laundry hamper, I pulled out the single armchair farthest from the bed and sat down.

My gaze drifted back to Lysander’s pale, exposed skin, marked everywhere with dark bruises in the shape of my fingers, along with deep, angry marks. His flaccid cock rested against his thigh, swollen and red.

I couldn’t fathom why he was suddenly pushing me away like this.

I replayed the moment in my head. Everything had shifted the exact second he caught sight of the lens. He had frozen instantly, twisting away from me before breaking down into desperate, heavy tears.

A wave of irritation tightened my chest. He hadn’t raised a single objection to that little boy broadcasting their encounters for the world to see, yet the moment he realized I was recording us, he lost his mind.

It wasn’t even a broadcast. What I captured was strictly for me. I had zero intention of putting it out there for anyone else’s eyes.

He preferred that boy over me. The truth was glaringly obvious. Why else would he have fought me so desperately? Why else would he have cried like that?

I hate you.

My jaw clenched hard. I dragged my eyes away from him, letting out a rough, frustration-laced exhale.

Why was this bothering me so much?

Perhaps because I wasn’t accustomed to having someone look at me with such absolute disgust. Or perhaps because the poison in Lysander’s tone dragged Julian’s memory right back to the surface.

Julian hadn’t just been someone in my circle, he was my lover. We had shared an intense, consuming bond, but as the years wore on, the mortal gap between us threatened to tear us apart. When I made the decision to turn him from into a vampire, I believed I was preserving our love forever. I thought he would be thrilled to belong to me for eternity.

He wasn’t.

I could still recall the visceral disgust on his face the moment he woke up and realized what I had done to him. He accused me of taking his choice, of corrupting him to satisfy my own possessive greed. What I saw as the ultimate act of devotion, he viewed as a tragic betrayal.

After his turning, our relationship disintegrated into bitter screaming matches, sharp resentments, and cold distance. No matter how many times I tried to pull him back into my bed, to fix the rift between us, he pushed me away with vicious contempt.

Eventually, he walked out and cut me off entirely. I never saw him again.

He and Lysander were carved from the exact same cloth.

Julian had shared my bed and whispered promises of affection, only to despise me the moment I locked him to my side. Lysander claimed he wanted me, only to spit venom at me with his next breath.

I rubbed my face, exhausted. This was precisely why personal connections were a waste of time. They were exhausting, unpredictable, and always ended in ruin.

A soft rustle near the floor pulled me from my thoughts and I knew Vesper had arrived.

Leaving the bedroom, I walked down the hall to the front door and pulled it open. Sure enough,she was waiting right outside.

"Vesper."

His heterochromatic eyes met mine. "What a warm welcome," he scowled at me. "Are you going to keep me on the porch?"

I stepped back, gesturing down the wide entryway. "After you."

He glided past me into the main living space.

Like me, Vesper was a vampire. He was striking and effortless, holding high prestige from his direct descent from noble clan bloodlines. But his blood, while ancient, lacked the purity of mine, leaving his authority secondary to my own.

Our dynamic fluctuated between casual allies and tolerable acquaintances. He was sharp, fiercely independent, and only acknowledged my command when it aligned with his agenda. Because hus abilities were invaluable, I tolerated her lack of deference.

Like right now. I hadn’t invited him here, yet here he was.

"What brings you to my door?" I asked flatly, watching as he settled into one of the plush armchairs.

"I came because my visions confirmed you have met your mate." He swept his gaze across the room before locking back onto me. "Where is he?"

"In my bed. Asleep." I cut him off with a raised hand before be could stand. "No. He’s completely drained. You’re not touching him. Whatever business you have with him can wait."

"Can it?" His voice took on an edge. "And how are your own abilities holding up?"

"They’re fine," I snapped, my temper flaring. "Since you’re here, explain this to me: Lysander bit me and drank my blood straight from the source. Yet he isn’t dead. How did he survive my venom?"

Vesper gave a casual shrug, unbothered. "Perhaps your strength is dwindling so rapidly that your venom has lost its lethality. Who’s to say?"

My eyebrow twitched. "Care to test that theory yourself?" I warned.

"No time to play."

I narrowed my eyes. "What exactly do you want with him?"

"Ideally, I’d bring him back to my sanctuary for study—"

"Not a chance," I cut in sharply. I had no intention of letting Lysander out of my grasp now that I finally had him.

"—but I anticipated you’d react like that," Vesper continued smoothly, "so I’ll settle for blood samples instead. Once he awakens, draw a few vials for me."

"Fine," I agreed. "Is that all?"

He rose from the chair in one fluid motion. "No. I need to inspect him now."

"I said no," I growled, stepping into his path. I had left Lysander bare in my bed; I’d tear him apart before I let him set eyes on him like that.

"You’re going to let me see him right now," Vesper countered, holding my glare without flinching. "Unless you want the fever currently taking hold of his body to cook his brain, rendering him completely useless to you."

When he saw how quiet I was, he snapped. "Are you taking me to him, or not?"

My jaw set hard. Turning without another word, I led him toward the bedroom.

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