“You’re not a vampire, so why do you like biting necks so much…”
Allowing Trinis Verlendel to nibble at her neck, Ailaira Green felt the blood draining from her body.
In truth, Trinis’s Bloodthirst was different from the classic notion of a vampire—this was purely because human blood contained innate magical power, and Ailaira’s blood was even more special than others.
Added to that was Trinis’s current state of Demonic Lust and possessive desire.
That’s what made her even more greedy at this moment, her legs clamped tightly around Ailaira’s waist, hands wandering aimlessly along Ailaira’s back.
Only when Ailaira’s neck had become unsightly and her body temperature had noticeably dropped did Trinis finally stop, still unsatisfied, staring at the prominent bite marks on that slender neck, as if they’d been carved by an awl.
Trinis was instantly swept up by an unspeakable thrill, her swelling desires boiling throughout her body.
She looked down at Ailaira from above, gazing into those indifferent eyes that seemed to ignore all things in the world, and felt an even greater urge to shatter that calm.
She wanted to stir up stormy waves on the placid sea, letting the tide of pleasure completely overwhelm her beloved’s mind and force her to be dyed in her own colors.
Her breaths grew heavier with intimacy as Trinis leaned down and licked Ailaira’s collarbone, her voice muffled from long-suppressed yearning:
“Ailaira, I’m not a child anymore…”
Ailaira’s consciousness was drifting. Back in their honeymoon phase, Trinis had hinted after each outburst that she wanted to go further, but Ailaira never had that kind of interest.
She’d simply brushed Trinis off by citing the Princess’s young age and the fact that she wasn’t yet of age.
But now, if she did the math… When was Trinis’s birthday again? She seemed to have forgotten. Oh well, she should be an adult by now.
Now that Trinis brought it up, the underlying meaning was obvious.
But unfortunately, Ailaira wasn’t the type to restrain her own desires out of pity for her lover; she was simply not interested: “Looks like some things I said in the past have stuck with you.”
“But Trinis, I still have to tell you, our relationship was built on lies and mutual benefit. In the Hall of the Church, the reason I approached that pitiful Princess was because I wanted to borrow her power to accomplish my own goals.”
Trinis stiffened at her words, eager to rise, but Ailaira pressed her hand on the back of her head, forcing her back onto her chest and continuing her monologue:
“I’m tired of repeating myself, Princess. I do not love you, nor do I love anyone else, not even myself.”
“Don’t waste your time on someone doomed to be impossible. This bit of advice is one of the few good deeds a Witch will ever offer.”
When she finished, Ailaira felt the front of her clothes grow damp, and the muffled sobs reminded her of the first time they met, when she’d seen the lonely Princess crying alone on a chair in the Hall.
Though Trinis still held her strange pose from her magical outburst, her voice became clear and bright:
“I actually… vaguely sensed it… Miss Ailaira in the past was always gentle, but sometimes the way you looked at me was different from Father and the others—not pity or affection, but more like weighing the value of an object.”
“But even though I noticed, I still couldn’t help being drawn to you.”
“You ignored the orders of The Church and the King, took me away from the Royal Capital, and showed me the scenery I’d only ever read about in books. We camped in the forest at night, watched the stars atop mountains under the night sky, and even set foot in the Elf Forest where no human had entered before.”
Trinis slowly sat up, guiding Ailaira’s palm to her own chest, letting her thundering heartbeat match Ailaira’s breaths.
Two streaks of tears remained on her cheeks:
“I can’t forget those memories! For a Princess who’d never left the Royal Capital since she could remember, Ailaira, the moment you shattered the city’s high walls for me, you also opened the doors to my fragile heart.”
Trinis gently hugged Ailaira—this time, just a simple gesture of affection: “So I won’t give up. You already live in my heart, and I can’t let you go.”
“I’ll go back to the Royal Capital obediently after this. It’s just that you’ve avoided me for so long, I couldn’t help myself this time.”
Ailaira curiously examined Trinis’s now-clear eyes. Her outward appearance was unchanged, but a sober Trinis gave off a completely different impression:
“So you can control your magical outbursts now?”
Trinis shook her head, her fingertip brushing Ailaira’s wounded neck, her gaze tinged with pain: “To keep up with Miss Ailaira, I’ve worked really hard too. Even though right now I can only maintain a bit of clarity, I believe I’ll fully master this troublesome body one day.”
No sooner had she finished than her body began to stir again, her hand unconsciously stroking Ailaira’s chest. The moment turned awkward, Ailaira raised her brow, and could sense her blood threading through Trinis’s body:
“Seems like it’s only ‘a bit’ indeed.”
At Ailaira’s teasing, Trinis’s face flushed crimson. She tried to withdraw her hand, but it was as if her hand had a mind of its own, even taking another squeeze.
Trinis’s face burned like blood. Fearing Ailaira would think her a lecher, she hurriedly explained: “I really am trying to control it! But my hand just won’t listen…”
“Looks like I’ll have to step in. Can’t expect you to control Devouring Magic yourself yet.”
Using her own blood as a medium, Ailaira invoked the Sanctified Flame imbued with Divine Essence, igniting Trinis from the inside out.
Wrapped in silver-white fire, Trinis felt no scorching pain; instead, it was like warm tides cleansing her sullied heart.
This peculiar form of purification was unlike anything else in The Church—it was unique to Ailaira. With the special nature of her blood and her mastery of magic, she could achieve twice the results with half the effort.
To be honest, carefully controlling the Sanctified Flame so Trinis wouldn’t be burned, precisely targeting those tainted auras, was real technical work.
It was like carrying a torch through a cave filled with marsh gas—she had to control the rising flames so nothing else caught fire.
So, every time the treatment ended, Ailaira would be somewhat exhausted, and it was always Trinis—fully recovered—who took it upon herself to care for her.
This short period, though fleeting, was one of the rare moments Trinis could freely take the initiative and enjoy herself.
In the past, Ailaira had silently permitted Trinis’s little wishes to wipe her body or feed her, and so on.
But just as she thought Trinis was still the same as before—a sheltered Princess who knew nothing—she suddenly felt her exhausted body being lifted.
Trinis’s petite figure erupted with astonishing strength, and she actually carried Ailaira toward the bed.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.