Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man

I chose not to comment. Behaved as if I didn't see a thing.

Sara looked at me again, and—yep—blushed.

Yeah, I forgot how damn cute I looked in this disguise.

"Clause, right?" she said.

I nodded.

Her expression turned serious, and she hesitated, like she was debating whether to say what was on her mind. Then, in a low voice, she muttered,

"I wanted to tell you... no, warn you..."

Her eyes flickered around nervously before she continued,

"You really should leave. Before you find something… and then you can never leave."

Huh?

I wanted to ask what the hell she meant by that, but she gave me a look that silenced me. Her lips parted again, voice even lower than before,

"Things aren't what they seem."

She glanced around, almost paranoid, like she was afraid someone might be listening.

"Stay the fuck away from Reed's gang. And most especially… Blaze."

Blaze.

Okay, she was naming people I didn't know, but from the way she said Reed's gang, I knew she meant the backseat group from class.

And Blaze… yeah, I was highly suspecting she meant the ghost guy.

"What's the deal with the pale dude? Did you see what I saw?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Sara visibly tensed, looking around again like she expected someone to jump out of the shadows.

"That's Blaze," she muttered. "Don't get on his bad side."

I arched a brow.

"And why's that?"

She swallowed, stepping a little closer to me, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because bad things happen here. And it'd be a shame for a cute guy like you… to end up like that."

She didn't say what "that" meant.

Didn't have to.

Because the way her voice shook, the way her hands gripped her scarf tightly, told me everything I needed to know—

Whatever "that" was… it was fucking bad.

I wanted to press her for more, demand an explanation, but she shut down immediately, shaking her head like the conversation was over.

Fine.

I changed the topic and asked her about the place I booked online—the one I was supposed to be staying at.

Turns out, she lived there too.

She mentioned that a lot of students from the university stayed in that boarding house, so at least I wasn't going to be in some isolated creepy dump.

And just like that, we walked together, heading toward the place.

I had originally planned to grab a taxi, give the driver the coordinates, and be done with it. But this was better—walking gave me a chance to see more of the town, maybe even pick up on some clues.

Or so I thought.

Because just when we were almost there, right before the next block, a sleek, black sports car suddenly screeched to a stop in front of us.

Sara froze.

Like, I mean, she went rigid—every muscle in her body locked up like she was a deer caught in headlights.

But what really got to me?

The way she forced a smile.

It wasn't real.

I could see it.

I recognized it.

It was the same fake-ass, terrified smile my brother used to have when he was scared but didn't want anyone to know.

My stomach dropped.

The driver rolled down the window, popped his head out, and flashed an easy, cocky grin.

"Hey, Sara. Get in. Let's go."

Everything about this dude gave me bad vibes.

Sara's fake smile didn't waver, but I saw the slight tremor in her hands.

"I thought you said at 8 p.m.," she said carefully, like she was choosing her words.

The driver's grin vanished.

His eyes turned cold, sharp like a blade, and his voice dropped to something darker.

"I've changed my mind."

His fingers tapped impatiently against the steering wheel.

"We need you now. So get in. And don't make me repeat myself."

Sara flinched.

It was small.

Barely noticeable.

But I saw it.

Her fingers clutched the hem of her sweater so tight her knuckles turned white.

But she still smiled. Still forced that fucking smile.

Then, she turned to me, her expression apologetic, and muttered,

"Sorry."

And just like that—

She opened the car door and got in.

I swear to god, in that split second, I saw her eyes glisten, like she was about to cry but was holding it in.

What. The. Hell.

Everything in me screamed to stop her.

To grab her wrist, yank her back, and tell those freaks to fuck off.

But I didn't.

Because I didn't know what was going on.

Didn't know how deep she was involved with these people.

And more importantly—

She had warned me.

Warned me not to get involved.

So I did the hardest thing I've ever done in my goddamn life—

I stayed quiet.

But one thing was clear.

Whatever the hell was happening in this town—

I just got tangled in it.

I stood there, frozen, chastising myself for not reacting.

For not grabbing her wrist and refusing to let her go.

For not ignoring her pleas to stay out of it.

For not standing my ground and telling those bastards to fuck off.

I should have done something.

Anything.

Instead, I had just watched her go.

Damn it.

I ran a hand through my hair, clenching my jaw, but what was done was done. There was no taking it back now.

Fine. Fine.

I'd wait for her.

She had to come back, right?

She said she lived at the same boarding house.

So I'd wait at the lounge or the front stairs—somewhere she'd have to pass.

I just needed to make sure she came back in one piece.

With that decision locked in my mind, I forced my legs to move, heading toward the block she had pointed out earlier.

The streets weren't exactly busy, but there were people walking about.

They strolled by like nothing had happened.

Like they hadn't just witnessed a girl getting into a car against her will, her body stiff with fear.

No one whispered.

No one looked concerned.

No one even paused to take a second glance.

And that's when it hit me.

This town—

This fucking town—

You mind your business.

You hear nothing.

You see nothing.

And if something feels off, you pretend it's not.

Because the moment you acknowledge it—

You're next.