CHAPTER ONE
This Book is the fourth book in the Eterna Tempation Series. It can be read as a standalone, but I’ll also advise my lovely readers to read book 1 if they want to.
Books in the series;
Book 1. Adonis and Bella: Vampire’s Siren
Book 2. Andro and Annika: Vampire’s Wallflower
Book 3. Marco and Isolde: Vampire’s Spitfire
Book 4. Dorian and Eva: Vampire’s King Soul
Book 5. Eli and Serena: Vampire’s Fight
Pulse Club was a space for fun, backyard deals, and more fun.
Marco stepped out of his car, the cool air brushing against his pale skin, a welcome contrast to the pressure that had been mounting over days spent running Valtieri’s and keeping his pack in line.
The restaurant was thriving, and Isolde had finally settled into his life as a mate, but none of it eased the restlessness clawing at him. The grind wore him down… it always did. And this was one of the reasons he had come to the States, leaving the affairs of the pack for a moment.
He adjusted his jacket, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and moved toward the entrance, letting the promise of anonymity pull him forward.
Inside, the club was electric. Sound and colour exploded from every corner. Marco slid through the sea of bodies with practiced ease, every one of his vampire senses alive.
He picked up on everything: the salt-and-sweet of sweat clinging to skin, the clink of glasses behind the bar, and the subtle glances from people who couldn’t quite place what was different about him but felt it anyway.
They could look all they wanted.
He took a seat at the bar and ordered whiskey, less out of desire, more out of ritual.
The bartender passed him the glass without a word, and Marco leaned back, taking a sip and letting the burn roll across his tongue. He let the chaos surround him like a wave, washing away the tension he carried, if only for a moment.
Then an uninvited figure dropped into the stool beside him without hesitation.
She was striking in a way that demanded attention. She had long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and her eyes were sharp and gleaming with something untamed.
Her red dress hugged every curve, catching more than a few stares from the surrounding crowd. She propped her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her hand as she looked at him with a playful grin.
“Hey, stranger,” she called in a low, teasing voice. “You look like you know how to have a good time. I’m Eva. Do you want to have some fun?”
Marco raised an eyebrow. A short laugh slipped out as he took another drink. She was bold and blunt in an almost charming way, but this wasn’t the reason he came here.
“I appreciate the offer, Eva, but I’m just here for the drinks. I had a long week.”
Eva pouted dramatically, not the least bit offended, and flagged down the bartender. “Suit yourself, mystery man. More fun for me.” She knocked back a shot of tequila without flinching, then ordered another like she was just getting started.
Marco let his eyes drift, but part of him stayed aware of her. She moved with a kind of barely-contained chaos, her laughter bright and unfiltered as she bantered with people nearby.
Her energy buzzed like an uncontrolled naked wire. He made an effort at small talk by leaning into the neutral space. “Do you come here often?”
Eva shrugged and tossed her hair like the question didn’t matter. “Only when I need to forget for a while. This place has a vibe. It’s loud enough that nothing else can reach you.”
Her tone was casual, but there was something behind her eyes, like she was keeping something locked away. She didn’t ask for his name, instead, she kept drinking, her rhythm getting looser, her smile a little more crooked with every shot.
Marco stayed in his own bubble, nursing his whiskey while the minutes turned to an hour. Then Eva suddenly slipped off her stool. She tried to steady herself but the motion turned into a stumble, and she nearly fell backwards.
He was on his feet before she hit the ground, wrapping his arm around her waist, keeping her steady effortlessly.
Her eyes met his, a little surprised at first, but then she smiled. “My hero,” she murmured. “Didn’t think you’d care.”
“You’re a mess,” he said with a soft chuckle, more concerned than amused. “Let me get you home. No funny business. Just making sure you don’t crack your skull open in some alley.”
She laughed but didn’t protest. She leaned into him as he helped her out of the club, slinging her arm over his shoulder. Marco propped her against his car as he reached for his phone.
“Where are we going, Eva?”
She tried to answer, but her words were tangled and thick, her breath warm and sweet with tequila. She fumbled with her phone, trying to bring up an address, but the device kept slipping from her fingers.
With a sigh, Marco took it from her and managed to find the location she’d been trying to show him. Downtown.
He helped her into the car and buckled her in with care. As he leaned across her to click the seatbelt, something glinted at her neck. It was a delicate necklace, silver with an ornate crescent moon pendant etched in old runes. His breath caught in his throat.
He knew that piece. He’d seen it before, long ago.
It was Dorian’s heirloom.
It was impossible to mistake. A relic tied to one of the most powerful vampire kings history had ever known. A king who had disappeared into self-imposed exile after being shattered by grief.
What the hell was it doing around this girl’s neck?
He got behind the wheel, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel as he glanced back at her.
“That necklace,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice level. “Where did you get it?”
Eva’s eyes opened halfway. For a second, there was clarity in them. “My dad,” she mumbled, her fingers brushing the pendant like she barely remembered it was there. “He said it was important… family thing.” Her voice trailed off as she slumped against the window again, her body going limp with exhaustion.
Marco drove in silence as his mind raced. That necklace wasn’t just important. It was a symbol of power, of legacy, of everything Dorian had once ruled with fire and blood.
And now it was here on the chest of a girl with no idea what it meant.
Eva’s apartment building was a squat, aging thing with bricks covered in graffiti and flickering lights by the front door. Marco helped her up the stairs, her weight slumping against him as she muttered a sleepy appreciation, fumbling with her keys until they finally clicked the lock open.
She collapsed onto the couch the moment they stepped inside, murmuring something incoherent before passing out completely. Marco stood still for a moment, just watching her.
He found himself looking at that necklace again, wondering if he was making a mistake, then realizing that he wasn’t, then resisting the urge to grab it off her neck and leave.
He couldn’t take it. This was clearly Dorian’s heirloom, but he wouldn’t be careless and grab it off an unconscious woman.
Marco locked the door behind him and walked back to his car, sliding behind the wheel with the hum of the engine cutting into the silence.
Dorian wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be.
And Eva, somehow, was tied to whatever storm was coming.
Marco didn’t know what was about to unfold, but something had shifted. A piece had moved on the board. And now, everything would burn.
