That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 188: She only stepped closer. Her movements were infused with a strange, hesitant grace.

"You saved his life. You saved Em's life," she repeated, wonder warping her features.

Vladya sighed.

Her eyes locked with his, a torrent of emotions swirling within them-concern, a fierce protectiveness, and a strange glint of… fascination? "I can't leave you like this."

"Of course, you can."

"Let me help you," she whispered.

He laughed, a harsh, empty, mirthless sound. "You cannot help me."

Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the rasp of Vladya's breath.

"You can drink from me."

He stopped breathing. The words, soft yet loaded with shocking resolve, sent a tremor through him. His inner beast roared in response, and a primal, deep hunger filled him, threatening to drown out all reason.

In a flash, he had her pinned against the wall. His large form a looming threat, fangs glinting in the dim light.

"Are you mad?" he snarled, his voice a rasping echo against the stone walls. "Do you tempt death so freely? Do not utter such words again. Ever."

Yet, she met his gaze without flinching. "I wish for you to drink from me," she repeated in a soft whisper.

His body throbbed in eagerness. Hunger clawed at him. His control weakened, fraying with every beat of her heart.

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If her blood were as sweet as it smelled, he would drink her dry.

"Speak those words again, and I may take you at your offer," he warned in a low tone.

"Your kind, you need permission to drink from a person the first time? Without it, the blood tastes bland and useless?" He nodded.

"You need blood to heal. And so, I give you my consent," she said, her voice steady.

A flicker of surprise coursed through him. Most people fled when he was like this-witches, Urekai, werewolves, all of them. Yet this tiny human princess always held her ground. A perplexing blend of bravery, stubbornness, and an iron will.

Qualities he'd once adored in a female. A lifetime ago.

"Drink from me, Your Highness," she urged, eyes closed as she tilted her head in a gesture of complete surrender. "I give you permission."

Her throat, pale and vulnerable, pulsed under his gaze. There are certain battles a man simply cannot win. This was one of them.

A groan of surrender escaped him as he took her neck, positioning her as he wanted. As his fangs pierced her skin, he infused her with his elixir, dulling the inevitable pain of penetration. Then, his fangs fully sank home. Aekeira's cry was a startled gasp, then a shuddering moan of pleasure.

Vladya groaned, the sound raw and uncontrolled. His eyes closed as her blood sang to him. Sweetness bloomed on his tongue, richer than any wine. The tang of iron, laced with a sweetness like sun-warmed honey, and a stark, elemental purity like a winter sunrise.

She was intoxicating. A heavenly delight.

He drew from her, feeling the throb of her pulse against his lips. Her body writhed in his grip.

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