In a single motion, I placed the soft, cold flesh of her lower neck in my mouth, my nose on her neck, inhaling her sweet, womanly scent.
Her eyes widened as her body shook.
It tasted like her—the certain womanly odor that was addicting to smell—mixed with dirt and sweat, so the skin tasted a bit sour, but still sweet as it brushed against my tongue.
Her face turned red as her trembling hands grabbed my head. She whispered in a moan, "Sho—should've waited… till marri—marriage, idiot!!" as she pushed me deeper onto herself.
I pushed the soft flesh between my sharp fangs and bit it gently, yet still sharp enough to pierce her skin.
My senses were quickly overwhelmed with warm, salty, yet sweet blood.
Her entire body seemed to shiver intensely as her warm breath hit my face. She was staring deep into my eyes with a gaze filled with lust, like she wanted to eat me. Goosebumps covered my body the longer I looked into her red eyes, with weird bubbles in my stomach and heart.
The footsteps were just meters away. I needed to hurry, but all my ears could focus on were her moans, getting louder and louder, and I just couldn't think straight because of how warm her body was getting.
My body was glued to hers, my chest against her massive, spongy breasts that were sinking me in, spreading across her body like rubber under my weight, still raising me high even as they flattened.
They were just that big!
Her arms were tightly wrapped around my back and waist, pulling me closer with such strength that I was surprised a young girl with no visible muscles could manage it.
The blood was boiling hot as it touched my tongue, yet extremely sweet, like Kool-Aid mixed with lemonade, and her unique scent.
I hastily gulped the delicious blood down my throat, my throat twitching for more.
Suddenly, as her blood entered my body, I felt thousands of images—so vivid, so real—flashing before my eyes.
In these flashes, I was in a first-person POV of a small, barely six-year-old, white-haired girl with a cute face. Her name was Alya.
My name is Alya.
I wore the same plain grey gown today, but that golden bracelet matched it. Even he said it was cute. My heels still felt uncomfortable to run in, but the pain in my ankles was overwhelmed by this freedom in an endless grassy plain, chasing behind him. Around the same age as me—a black-haired boy, wearing a long red trench coat—running from me with a happy smile. We were playing tag.
This was the best time of the day. But I felt an ache in my heart at the sheathed short katana tied suffocatingly tight around my waist. My palms and knuckles had thick calluses, sending a bone-chilling, sharp pain every second. I realized I could catch up to him any second. But I shouldn't. Or they'll beat me again. He'll be angry too. I should just let him win.
Then the scene shifted to me being in the bath with the boy, washing his back. He slapped me today—the first time he ever raised his hand at me. It was always just his voice. "I don't like you clinging to me so much! I don't need your pity! I'll beat you fair and square one day! I'll get strong enough to not need your disgusting pity!" What did that mean? I just did what I was supposed to. Why was he so angry? He went to sleep, but I was called by that woman again—her highness—the same stern face.
"Today, we will increase your poison tolerance," she said expressionlessly. It hurt. I was choking, suffocating, but she just watched until it finally stopped. I slept for three hours at the foot of his bed, and then, we went to play again. The same boring game. He was pathetically weak for a prince.
The things kept repeating in similar ways for me for so many days that I couldn't even keep count.
Everything in my life revolved around him—from newborn to adulthood. I hated him. I never experienced anything remotely close to a life… all because of him!
Until…
Everything was burning. We were running. He was the calmer one. He saved my life thrice, taking risks for someone like me. Wasn't I a slave? He was just using me as a blood source to heal from his injuries, but I was fine with it. As long as I can be useful to him.
We were working together. He started to treat me like an equal. We went through adventures, tens of towns, met new people, strategized new escape plans together, fought together. He wasn't that weak. But most of all… I didn't hate him as much. But I regretted deeply that I never really got the chance to talk with him properly—he was always so calculated.
Still, we were giving each other hope in the rare moments of peace.
We were alone, like the last people on a planet. It was exciting. I'd never felt like this before. No gimmicks, no master, just me, freely exploring. It might've been considered bad to feel this way when your race was just genocided, but I couldn't care less. It was fun. Also, one day, Lucien will get our revenge on those disgusting humans.
But all hope shattered… A man in midnight-black armor appeared. He caught him—and then me. I was scared.
Fortunately, we were locked together.
We were tortured to a state where any other life form would certainly die, but—
Every moment since the disaster, even the terrible pain and torture…
Were the best moments of my life.