“No, no. I don’t mean killing me.”
“Explain yourself,” I demand.
She wets her lips before speaking carefully. “There was this one book I was reading. It was a forbidden romance novel between two immortals and they mentioned blood bonds. By exchanging blood, they could exchange energy, and even thoughts! ”
“That’s fiction, Moe,” I reply with a sigh.
“It’s not! This isn’t the first book that mentioned blood exchanges. Some even said that’s how mating bonds are triggered.”
“Mating bonds?” I blink. I’d heard about them, but only as a rare phenomenon that happened when two individuals were fated for one another.
“Yes. It all starts with a blood exchange. There has to be some truth to this, Nyk. Spiritual energy powers the soul and blood powers the body. I think there’s a connection between them.”
I mull over her words. “You’re saying that I could recharge my energy if I drink your blood.”
She nods effusively. “There is one issue, though. At least I think it is. It happened in this book.”
“What?”
“Once an immortal starts drinking blood, they cannot stop. They have to drink blood regularly otherwise their spiritual energy is cut in half.” She fidgets with her fingers as she speaks. “This is just what the book said, though. Maybe it was only a plot device?” She gives me a nervous smile.
“So it becomes akin to a drug.”
“In a sense.” She nods.
“Ifit works at all.”
“Yes.”
More sounds in the distance: footsteps getting closer and closer to us. At this point, we’re out of options.
“We can try it. If you don’t mind giving me some of your blood, that is.”
“Of course.” She immediately pulls her sleeve up and presents her wrist to me. “You have your knife, no?”
I nod and take out the small knife from my pocket. I wipe the blade on my pants first to get rid of the caked blood. But when it’s time to press the sharp edge onto her skin, I find that I’m unable to.
My hands tremble, and I keep looking at her, worried she might pull back at any moment.
“Give it to me,” she eventually says with a sigh. She grabs the knife from my useless hand and cuts a thin, clean line just above her wrist.
Blood immediately surfaces, and I lean forward, pressing my lips to the cut.
The taste is rich and slightly sweet—so different than my own blood. In fact, the more I suck on the wound, the more I note how fragrant and delicious it is.
I lose myself in the moment, my mind becoming a solid blank. The effects are immediate, though. Energy rushes through me, invigorating me and accelerating my healing.
But there is something else. My canines sharpen, elongating until they penetrate her skin, renewing the flow of blood.
“Ah,” Moe lets out a soft gasp. I nibble and drink in her essence.
Unwittingly, my body reacts, too. I’m hot and far too constrained by my own clothing. Everything seems like a boundary meant to stop me from advancing—from getting to her.
It’s hard to get myself to stop. But as I note the changes in myself, the way I’m slowly slipping into a state of madness and arousal, I wrench myself away.
But like an addict, I can’t help but come back to it, licking every residual drop. But as I swirl my tongue around her flesh, I’m surprised to see it closing on its own.
“Are you alright?” I ask at last, a little embarrassed by my reaction.
