Chapter 150: Both Love and Grace

Sista Anderson didn’t pay any attention to those words of reproach, merely glaring coldly at her before lowering herself further.

Her knees pressed down on Su Ling’s body, pinning the delicate girl beneath her.

In the dimness, those slender, pale hands traced a line through the air.

Then, they gripped the silver-haired girl’s slender waist.

The force wasn’t heavy, but it was more than enough to firmly imprison her below.

“Don’t pretend to be innocent with me. Off with someone else to seek pleasure, then come back and deny it? Just because I showed you a little more affection, you think you can get carried away?”

Su Ling’s heart thudded with panic, her face pale as she raised her hand instinctively, arching her small body and struggling weakly on the carpet.

But she was never a match for Sista Anderson. After a few attempts to break free, she finally gave up on resisting.

Her long silver hair spread out on the carpet, like scattered threads of silver. Su Ling’s clothes were disheveled, her gaze trailing anxiously past the firelight, searching for an escape.

This time, Sista Anderson was truly angry.

Su Ling could feel it—rarely did the Blood Princess show such unbridled rage. Now, she was so angry she could barely control herself.

“Your Highness… please… don’t…” Su Ling pleaded with difficulty, her voice trembling and choked.

“Only pain will help you remember.”

Sista Anderson leaned in even closer, their bodies almost pressed together.

“Everything about you belongs to me, body and soul. I’m the one who gave you life, and from the day I rescued you from that cage, you lost the right to ever leave my side.”

Those words, cold as steel, pierced deep into Su Ling’s heart. Her eyes brimmed with tears, staring at Sista Anderson in terror.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Aside from apologies, Su Ling didn’t know what else to say.

The Blood Clan are Blood Clan, the Human Race are the Human Race.

Between humans and Beastfolk, there might be room for some emotional connection, but the Blood Clan are entirely different beings.

This truth, Su Ling had heard countless times along the way.

In order to better control the humans, who made up the majority of the kingdom, the Blood Clan had imitated humans and formed Family Units, trying to forge love and familial ties.

But the Blood Mark was their symbol of power, and feelings between Blood Clan were far colder and more suppressed than among humans—indifference was their innate nature.

Perhaps Sista Anderson was a rare exception. She cared for Su Ling, worried when Su Ling was hurt. But Sista Anderson was still a Blood Clan at heart, no different in essence from the rest of her kind.

“So you’d rather not say a word, is that it?” Sista Anderson restrained her anger. “Even if I punish you, you still won’t speak?”

“I… I…”

Her voice trailed off.

Sista Anderson released her grip, and the muffled sobs of the girl followed.

Trying to resist the maid in front of her was pointless. That stain on her heart would not fade away immediately. Even if, for a while, she controlled Su Ling through fear, that person’s place in Su Ling’s heart would still remain.

If that was the case, she might as well leave a deeper imprint herself.

What were relationships between two people, what were court rules—none of it mattered at all.

Now, Sista Anderson wanted only to leave an eternal mark on Su Ling’s body, to make her sensation so intense that it overshadowed everyone else.

Like a serpent sliding deeper beneath black fabric.

“Close your eyes. Don’t move.”

On that tender skin, creamy traces kept spilling out, dripping from the pastry and lingering temptingly.

To the hungry Blood Princess, this was a most exquisite delicacy.

“No… please…”

Su Ling finally couldn’t hold back her sobs. She’d always been quick to cry, but now she was weeping like a child, tears falling like beads from a broken string.

The sensation of being slowly tormented and possessed was overwhelming.

Su Ling’s small hands curled in surrender, brushing the tears from her eyes as her shoulders shook.

She had never imagined this kind of experience before. She hadn’t known pain could be so sharp…

Sista Anderson’s actions were never rough, but the pain of the wound still felt like it split her heart, tearing her soul apart.

“I said, don’t move.”

As soon as the words fell, Sista Anderson tightened her grip again, and Su Ling let out another cry, her face growing even paler.

Her mind was a blank void, only pain continually lashing her nerves, like white silk being torn open, left to be violated without mercy.

Before long, a brilliant drop of red fell, carrying a faint, intoxicating fragrance.

The blood was not much, but Sista Anderson brushed her black hair behind her ear, lowered her head, and slowly savored the warmth of that taste.

Lingering over the unique flavor of her beloved, she moved gently at the wound, the bittersweet taste flooding her mouth. A flush crept across Sista Anderson’s cheeks, her breathing quickening.

She loved it… loved the taste of her flesh, loved everything about her.

Sista Anderson felt as if she might drown in ecstasy, as if she had gained the most precious treasure in the world.

“You are mine alone. No one else is allowed to touch you. Understand?”

Having finally claimed what belonged to her alone, the black-haired girl’s eyes shimmered with satisfaction.

“Yes… I’m sorry…”

Su Ling stared blankly at Sista Anderson, no longer knowing what she was muttering. Time seemed to flow so slowly; her body was heavy, her legs trembling.

After the pain, a sense of weakness and emptiness remained.

It was only after a long time that Sista Anderson finally released her, the coldness in her eyes gradually fading.

She sat down on the carpet, cradling Su Ling’s fragile body in her arms, her hands gently wiping away the remaining traces of pain.

“Does it still hurt?”

“It… does…” Su Ling replied mechanically.

“The wound can get infected easily. Before it heals, keep it clean. Don’t get sick again like last time and neglect your work.”

Sista Anderson stuck out her tongue, licking away the tears on Su Ling’s cheeks. That taste sent a strange, bitter pleasure surging through her heart.

The wind rustled outside the window.

The ceiling rose high above the beams, shadows deepening in the cracks. In the stove, the flames flickered among the smoky, red logs, burning down to the last embers, their glow fading away.

And so, the two of them sank into the darkness together.

In this icy Blood Clan City, Sista Anderson was a noble Princess, possessing so much—yet, in truth, nothing at all.

It was for this reason that, when the silver-haired girl fell into her arms, her heart beat with joy, feeling a satisfaction at finally gaining something truly her own.

Whether it was the Blood Clan’s power struggles or Lier’s obsession with the throne, Sista Anderson cared nothing for them.

Only Su Ling—her one and only plaything, her most precious plaything—Sista Anderson would never, ever let anyone else have.

But these words, she could never let Su Ling know.

So, in the darkness, Sista Anderson simply whispered one sentence.

“Remember, if you ever do something like this again and I find out,” she pressed her brow to Su Ling’s ear, “I’ll break that person in front of you, piece by piece, until they wish they were dead.”

Su Ling’s heart skipped a beat, her expression growing rigid.

Author’s Note: Let me say it again, there are no knives in this story, only twisted love and a(@「“@)e. There will be plenty of unexpected plot twists ahead, so please keep reading!