"Ahhh~! I can't take this anymore!"
Seraphine threw her hands up in frustration, the papers she held scattering across the throne room.
One drifted onto Ashen's book, blocking his view. He plucked it away and flicked it aside, letting it join the rest on the floor.
"What's wrong?" His gaze never left the page as he absentmindedly caressed the woman perched on his thigh.
"It's been two months already… and aside from speculations, we have nothing concrete. It's infuriating!" She poked his cheek. "How can you stay so calm? We could be attacked at any moment, in case you didn't know!"
Knowing he wouldn't get much reading done anyway, Ashen set the book aside and pulled her fully against his chest, one hand sliding down her waist while the other idly caressed her thigh.
"You could say my last training with Edward taught me a thing or two about patience." His voice softened. "How about a break? I'm sure you're famished by now."
It only dragged her mood lower. "Please… anything but that. The food here is enough to make me nauseous just looking at it."
"Oh?"
Now that he thought about it, vampire cuisine wasn't repulsive so much as painfully monotonous. When a race needed nothing beyond blood to survive, their attempts at cooking were bound to fall flat, especially when every recipe revolved around replenishing lost blood rather than taste or variety.
"You're right. You've been eating the same thing for a week. Sorry for not noticing sooner." He paused, then added lightly, "After all, you're my meal. It slipped my mind."
"Hueuh… don't." She looked away, embarrassed. "I didn't say anything either. Sorry for complaining."
"Then… how about this?"
He raised his thumb to his fang and punctured it, a bead of blood forming before he held it out.
"...What's this?" Seraphine asked blankly.
"Suck."
He didn't give her time to argue. The moment her lips parted, he pressed his thumb into her mouth.
Seraphine stilled... Then obeyed.
Her lips closed around him, and she drew in softly, her eyes fixed on his.
And then everything changed.
It was as if a new world unfolded inside her. Her body reacted instantly, greedily pulling out every drop, clinging to it like parched earth drinking rain. Her hands rose without thought, gripping his as her pace quickened, her movements turning almost desperate.
But the wound sealed within seconds.
Left with nothing, she slowed. Then, reluctantly, released him, her lips parting with a hot breath.
"More…" she whispered needily.
"Alright. Here," Ashen repeated the motion without hesitation. "Have your fill."
"Mmm…"
The soft, quiet sounds of sucking filled the space as she drank again.
He was already monitoring her body through Somatic Autonomy and, finding no adverse effects, saw no reason to stop her.
As for the memories she might glimpse… he wouldn't be a hypocrite about it. His women had unfailingly allowed him access to their minds through dream parasites. Even though he never sifted through their memories out of respect, the gesture itself was absolute trust.
And trust could only be returned in kind.
The only thing that gave him pause was the thought of her seeing his suffering. He didn't want that weight landing on her. But from what he'd observed, memories revealed themselves in natural order this way, from childhood forward. There was time.
'No one told me it would be this addictive, though,' Ashen mused, watching a flushed Seraphine frantically suck as if her life depended on it.
A quick check with Somatic Autonomy cracked the mystery.
'The sheer amount of vitality. Absorbing it this way makes the body crave more; her brain is signaling for it because it's so nourishing.'
He couldn't help but marvel at the propriety of it. Normally, absorbing another's life force untainted by your own would be impossible without perfect compatibility.
Ashen and Alice were a rare exception. Not only could they freely exchange vitality, but they could also manipulate each other's mana as if it were their own.
Vampire blood, apparently, made it possible for anyone to absorb its vitality, regardless of who they were.
He gazed into those hopeless, sky-blue eyes, then down at the red lips wrapped around his thumb, and murmured,
"No wonder their blood is called the fountain of life."
⛧ ⛧ ⛧
From that day onward, Seraphine did not acknowledge any other food besides his blood.
Ashen sometimes wondered who the real vampire was here.
The castle's reaction was more explosive than he had anticipated. Her refusal of normal food eventually gave them away. Beneath the usual reverence, people started looking at him as if he were an alien, and from those looks, he understood how deep a taboo it was to give one's blood away.
But that same taboo made it the ultimate expression of love.
The story spread. First through the castle, then beyond it, until the surrounding metropolis had heard the tale of their primordial lord's foolish devotion. Ultimately, it became an established fact, passed around as certainty.
Ashen made no effort to quell the rumors. They weren't far from the truth. He did love his Consort… dearly.
But there was something far more important occupying his mind right now.
Seraphine's state.
It had started subtly, almost unnoticeably. Then, day by day, it deepened.
She clung to him at every opportunity. Hugs, cuddles, sleeping pressed against him, wanting him present even when she bathed… At first, he had assumed it was the strangeness of this place making her seek familiarity. But as they grew more accustomed to the castle and its people, nothing eased. If anything, it intensified.
Now, even when she went to relieve herself, she wanted him to come along.
He had asked her about it more than once. She always found ways to redirect, and he eventually understood that she didn't want to discuss it.
So he didn't push.
With her always safe at his side, he saw no reason to force the truth from her. Besides… her clinginess didn't bother him. If anything, he basked in it. But something kept nagging at his intuition. Not loud enough to signal mortal danger. Close to it, though.
And lately, she had started acting as if she were on borrowed time.
⛧ ⛧ ⛧
"Hey… look at this."
Seraphine was sprawled languidly across his torso, her cheek resting against his chest as they lay tangled on the wide royal bed. One leg had slipped between his, pressing their bodies together in a familiar way.
Ashen's arm loosely draped around her waist, fingers tracing absent circles over the thin fabric at the small of her back. He glanced down at the book in her hands.
"What's that?" He raised an eyebrow at the illustration. It was a tree that looked anything but ordinary.
"The ancestor of the elves. Same as Noctari was to the vampires."
"Their ancestor is a tree?"
"No, you dummy~ not just any tree, a living tree!"
She bonked him lightly on the head with her small fist, then immediately smoothed the spot with her fingertips, brushing his hair back. Her body pressed closer as she laughed, free hand sliding up to rest over his heart.
"According to this, it was the largest tree in the world, and the oldest."
"And then?" His hand glided lower until his palm found her hip. "How did the elves come from that?"
"Wait for it," she wagged a finger in front of his nose, then nestled back down, tucking her head beneath his chin.
"The tree was a manaweave. Enormous amounts of mana had accumulated inside it over the ages, and that mana eventually gave it sentience. Noctari used its branches as a home whenever he reverted to his bat form, and over time, they became friends."
"Uh huh…"
"Here comes the fun part." Seraphine's eyes lit as she tilted her face up, letting her lips brush against his throat with each word. "When the tree saw how its friend had created offspring, it wanted the same. But as a tree, it couldn't do it the way Noctari had, so instead, it funneled most of its mana into its fruits, carrying that single wish inside each one."
Ashen's eyes widened. He understood where this was going.
Seraphine didn't let him speak. "Yes! Exactly what you're thinking!"
She moved upward a little, and her breasts squeezed against his chest as she propped herself on one elbow to look at him properly; one knee slid higher along his thigh. "From the fruits came the very first elves of our planet!"
"Well." He blinked. "That's one way to go about it."
"Pfft. Can you believe it? Those scary guys back home actually came from fruits." She snickered against his collarbone. "No one would believe us if we told them."
"Surely not."
Ashen smiled faintly, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, thumb brushing along the nape of her neck.
"Let me guess. The Darkness claimed the tree as well."
"Yes…" She lingered a moment. "What I'm trying to say is… this is the second instance of an entity like that existing. Which means whatever is targeting us might be one too. Something that wasn't claimed by that Darkness."
She wrapped her arms around him. "We also haven't considered a beast that's undergone multiple evolutions. If a bat could become Noctari… what could a leopard become?" Her voice dropped slightly. "This era is still largely unknown to us. Maybe such creatures survived. And for some reason, the vampires attracted their attention."
"…"
Ashen was quiet.
He had already arrived at the same conjecture. He simply hadn't voiced it; there was no reason to add to whatever she was already carrying.
"Don't worry… As long as I'm here, we'll be safe. I promise."
Seraphine was quiet for a moment.
"Ashen… I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
He didn't truly understand what she meant—
Not until the next day.