Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man-Chapter 31: You’re A Girl

Blaze didn’t hesitate. He wrenched one of the knobs, sending a stream of cold water spraying from the showerhead.

"Get in," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears.

"I—I can do it myself," I stammered, desperate to keep space between us.

Blaze’s eyes flicked up, something dangerous glinting in them. "You think I trust you to wash him off properly?" He reached for the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing fabric. "Don’t make me do it for you."

I flinched back violently, my breath catching in my throat. I can’t let him see.

Blaze narrowed his eyes at my reaction, suspicion flickering across his face. My heartbeat pounded like a war drum in my chest as I forced myself to step back, bumping against the cold tiles of the shower stall. The icy water hit the floor with a relentless hiss, the room thick with humidity and something far worse—the weight of realization that I was running out of ways to hide.

"Strip," he said. I didn’t move.

"I said strip." His voice was softer this time, but there was no mistaking the command in it.

I hesitated, my fingers trembling as I reached for the hem of my shirt. If I refused, he would do it himself—I had no doubt about that. If I obeyed... if I let this play out, maybe I could keep my secret a little longer.

But my hands barely lifted the fabric before Blaze’s patience snapped. With a growl of frustration, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked, tearing the material down the middle with vampiric ease. I let out a strangled gasp, crossing my arms over my chest on pure instinct. But it was too late.

The bandages were there, wrapped tight across my torso, binding what should have never been seen.

Blaze froze.

For the first time since I’d met him, since the horror of this place had begun, he was completely, utterly still. His breath hitched—a subtle, involuntary sound that betrayed the depth of his shock.

His red eyes traced the flattened curves of my chest, the uneven wraps of cloth, the way I curled inward, my face twisted with sheer panic.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said it.

"You’re a girl."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Five seconds passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

And still, he didn’t move.

I dared to glance up, and what I saw chilled me more than the freezing water spraying at my back. Blaze wasn’t just shocked—he was caught somewhere between fascination and fury. His fangs peeked from behind parted lips as if instinct had kicked in before logic. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

"I didn’t know," he muttered to himself. His voice wavered—not in weakness, but in something else. Something darker.

I pressed myself harder against the tiled wall, my breathing ragged. "Blaze—"

His gaze snapped to mine. "You lied to me."

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t know if he was angry, or amused, or something far worse. But for the first time, I realized something terrifying.

Vampires can be shocked.

And I didn’t know if that was a good thing—or the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Blaze exhaled sharply, his breath uneven, his eyes dragging over me like he was trying to process something incomprehensible. His lips parted again, but this time, his voice came out rough, almost incredulous.

"You’re a fucking girl."

He said it like he didn’t believe it. Like the words didn’t make sense in his mouth. His eyes flickered back down to the tight, desperate wrapping around my chest, then back up to my face, his red irises burning with something unreadable.

I pressed harder against the cold tile, my skin damp from the misting water, my entire body trembling with the weight of discovery. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst through my ribs. I didn’t know what to do. What to say.

Blaze took a slow step forward. I flinched.

His smirk flickered to life, but it wasn’t his usual cruel amusement. No, this was something else. Something unnerving.

"You lied to me," he murmured again, more to himself than to me. He reached out suddenly, and I gasped as his fingers brushed over my collarbone, tracing the place where Reed had bitten me. His touch was deceptively light, barely there, but it made every nerve in my body seize with panic.

His gaze darkened as he whispered, "That mutt—he’s been touching you like this. Thinking you were a boy." His eyes met mine again, and for the first time, there was something almost dangerous about his fascination. Like he was enjoying a private joke. Like he had won something.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Blaze’s fingers trailed lower, stopping just above the edge of the bandages. His smirk widened, fangs gleaming.

"No wonder you kept flinching." A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You were hiding."

I swallowed thickly. "Blaze—"

He ignored me. His other hand came up, tugging at the soaked bandages, his nails lightly scraping the fabric. The motion was slow, deliberate.

"This... changes things," he mused, as if he was still turning the thought over in his mind, still reveling in his discovery. Then, suddenly, his grip tightened, and with one sharp tug—

Rip.

The wet fabric gave way, unraveling against my skin. I choked on a gasp, my hands flying to clutch at what little remained, my entire body locking up in terror.

Blaze just stared.

The silence stretched.

And then he laughed.

A slow, deep, hungry laugh.

Blaze’s laughter echoed off the tiled walls, low and drawn out, curling around me like smoke. But it wasn’t amusement. It wasn’t relief or even rage. It was something else entirely—something that made my stomach churn with unease.

He was changing his mind.

I pressed myself further into the wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My exposed skin was cold under the flickering fluorescent lights, the broken remnants of my disguise clinging uselessly to my chest. I expected him to be furious. I expected disgust, maybe even violence.

But instead, he just stood there, staring.

His red eyes gleamed, calculating. A smirk ghosted over his lips, but there was nothing friendly in it.

"You... are a girl."

His voice was soft, almost thoughtful, but the weight of those words made my blood run cold.

"A fucking girl."

I forced my body not to tremble, but my hands were still clutched around my chest, trying to shield whatever dignity I had left. "You’re—" My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard before trying again. "You’re mad, right? You should be mad."

Blaze tilted his head, running his tongue over a fang. He was thinking. And that was worse than rage. I could have handled rage. I had been prepared for rage.

"Oh, I was mad," he admitted, stepping closer. "I thought that mutt had tainted what was mine. Thought he had broken you in before I got the chance." His fingers twitched at his sides, and I knew he was fighting the urge to touch—to test. "But now?" He exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Now, I don’t know whether to kill you for deceiving me... or celebrate."

My pulse spiked.

Celebrate?

I tried to take a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The wall was there, and so was he.

Blaze’s smirk widened as he watched me squirm, as if the horror dawning in my eyes delighted him. "You thought I wanted you because I liked men?" He leaned in close, voice a whisper of ice against my cheek. "You thought my kind has the same boring, human limits?"

I shuddered as his breath ghosted over my skin, his presence suffocating.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run.

Blaze grinned, and for the first time, I understood.

I wasn’t safer as a girl. I wasn’t anything except more entertaining.

He wasn’t disgusted.

He was excited.