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The cost of Hungar

The west wing was a world apart from the cold, damp cells where they slept. The hall stretched endlessly, filled with long, gleaming tables set beneath chandeliers dripping with crystals. Golden sconces cast warm light onto polished marble floors, and the air smelled of roasted meat, spiced wine, and something metallic Luke couldn't name but knew all too well.

This was where the vampires dined.

Luke and Jake stood at the edge of the room with the other slaves, heads bowed, waiting for the first command. A hundred eyes swirled with predatory hunger. Luke kept his own gaze fixed on the floor, every muscle coiled tight as the vampires entered, their silken clothes brushing against the stone like whispers of death.

Jake leaned in close, his voice barely a breath. "They eat like kings."

Luke nudged him sharply with his elbow, not daring to respond.

The vampires moved languidly, their steps graceful, predatory. They took their seats at the tables while the human slaves scurried forward, carrying ornate platters of food. Roast meats glistened under the chandeliers, surrounded by vegetables arranged like art. The vampires did eat human food, but it wasn't why they were here.

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At the far end of the room, a group of pets entered. They were adorned in silks and chains, their skin pale and marked by faint scars or fresh bites. Each one belonged to a vampire, their lives bound in submission and servitude.

Luke couldn't help but glance at Jake, whose jaw tightened as his eyes lingered on a young woman with long, auburn hair. She looked no older than twenty, her wrists bound by delicate golden cuffs as she walked behind her master.

"She shouldn't be here," Jake muttered, his voice dark.

"She doesn't have a choice," Luke replied coldly. "Neither do we."

The feast began.

Luke's duties that evening were simple: keep the tables clear, refill goblets, and avoid attracting attention. The vampires drank deep from their chalices, their laughter echoing like the sound of cracking glass.

It wasn't long before the real feast began.

The first vampire, a gaunt man with silver-streaked hair, grabbed his pet by the wrist and pulled her into his lap. The room grew quieter, the air thick with anticipation. His lips brushed the girl's neck, and then his fangs sank deep into her flesh. Her muffled gasp was lost beneath the sound of goblets clinking and forks scraping plates.

One by one, the vampires followed suit. Pets were pulled from their places, their bodies trembling as their masters fed. Some tried to hide their fear, others embraced their role with eerie obedience. The sight turned Luke's stomach, but he didn't let it show.

Jake, however, was different. He wasn't just disgusted—he was enraged.

"She's just a girl," Jake hissed under his breath, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Keep your mouth shut," Luke whispered sharply, grabbing Jake's arm.

Jake shook him off, his green eyes blazing. It was a mistake.