He clutched her, his slender arms wound around her – blue silk rippled through the black satin as the crescent brushed against the star.

The air around them had shifted from something monastic into something intricate – it was almost a palpable change. How ironical that now when they held one another, when their souls were finally together, it was time for them to separate.

But it was not of love that they held with one another, it was not of empathy that their souls were together – rather it was the hatred that compelled them to cling to one another – the epiphany of this reality indeed paralyzing.

He, silently, with a graceful sweep of his hand, flounced the amorous curls of her dark hair, which veiled that gleaming, silvered neck – unbitten, chaste.

His breath was almost equivocal to nothingness, as he lowered his chiseled head towards the arch of her neck.

She breathed a sigh of trepidation, as he drew near to her – beyond which, it seemed, lingered a trace of aversion.

Her neck was tantalizing to the vampire, whose blood now churned with lust for more blood – the shiny, nourishing blood of the vampire that he embraced in his arms.

The predator bared its fangs – lustrous canines that craved for their red subsistence. They momentarily gleamed, as they hit the Selene neck – penetrating through her shimmery skin.

As the fangs entered her flesh, she cried feebly in pain.

But the vampire still fed. He was a vampire after all.

And although being a vampire, she was a Sacrifice, a gambit that had been reared only to be sacrificed.

Third Eye had to be awakened.


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