“I thought you were supposed to be helpful, not call me weak,” I mumbled, meeting his gaze.
“I am not calling you weak,” Francis chuckled, offering me a hand. “All I am saying is that this weapon is not right for you, but I do have an idea.” He pulled me to my feet. “Bring your sword to the dinner tonight, hopefully Ash has worked with Royal steel before.” Francis offered me his dagger. “In the meantime, train with these.”
My fingers wrapped around the slim hilt of Francis’ dagger when he pointed at the target on the wall behind my back.
“Do you remember our last lesson?” He murmured into my ear before taking a step backwards, allowing me space.
I mostly remembered what happened after the lesson... “Yes.” I held the dagger by its tip, swinging it for a throw.
The blade spun in the air when I let go, flying straight into my target. To my biggest surprise, the tip of the blade landed close to the center of the painted target. An inch of the tip disappeared into the wooden panel in a smooth motion.
“That was... good.” Francis retrieved the blade from the wood, offering me the weapon anew. “Really good,” he said, surprise written on his face.
I shrugged, as though it wasn’t mere luck that had spared me the embarrassment.
“Go again.” Francis stood behind me when I readied to throw. The smell of jasmine and cigars invaded my space.
This time, the blade was nowhere near the painted target, though it did land into the wood—certainly progress from our last lesson.
“The closer to heart the better.” Francis retrieved the blade, handing it to me. Our fingers brushed against each other, sending waves of excitement through my bothered body. “If you manage to hit the heart, the poison from the Royal steel will kill your opponent before their next breath.” He stood behind me—closer than before—as I swung the blade forward.
“Good,” Francis murmured into my ear when the blade split the wood anew. The smell of his flesh spun my head drunk, his heartbeat reaching my ears.
I hadn’t fed in days—
“What did Simon mean bya vampire can’t survive on their own kind's blood for long?” I faced Francis, remembering the unsettling comment Simon made. “Does that mean, eventually, I will have to...” The words died on my tongue.
“You needn’t worry yourself.” Francis put a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “He was talking of those who feed on vampires that do not have access to human blood themselves,” Francis started. “Since I still consume human blood, you get everything you need from me. That is precisely why Faris manages to survive without draining hundreds of humans weekly; even though we still need some of their blood.”
The idea of innocents hurting at the hands of someone like me turned my stomach upside down.
“There is no reason to pity them, Cordelia.” Francis reassured me as though reading my thoughts. “While what they do is dangerous, it is their own choice. Many come here again and again for pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” My cheeks reddened, despite the nausea that settled deep in my stomach.
“Those who did not break the law on human grounds, and come here of their own accord, mostly do it for pleasure, yes.” Francis nodded. “Sure, most of them believe they are giving their blood as part of a sacrifice to the divine, but you can’t denythe pleasure they get from the act itself.” A mischievous smile tugged on his lips. “Just like you did when begging me to take your blood.”
“I felt no pleasure,” my voice turned into a whisper at my blatant lie. My heart fluttered at his words, my mouth watered.
“Oh, no?” He smirked. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten.” Francis crooked his head to one side, his eyes darkening.
“Perhaps I have.” The words spilled without my permission; yet I felt no remorse, no shame. “Perhaps you need to remind me.” I had lost my mind.
Francis’ brows flew high when the realization of what I had asked him settled. He cleared his throat before a smile unveiled his dimples. “I would be honored to.” His hands fell onto my waist, ushering me closer.
My hands fell onto his shoulder, my fingers still wrapped around his dagger.
His lips brushed over my neck, goosebumps covered my whole body. I moved my head to the side, offering him access, my fingers dug in his shoulders as the idea alone made my knees weak.
He planted a tender kiss on my skin, his soft lips stretched into a smile against my flesh before he asked, “Do I have your permission, Princess?”
The flowers bloomed deep in my stomach as my center ached in the most satisfying way possible. “Yes,” I breathed, my eyes closing in anticipation—
His teeth pierced my thin skin, a whimper pushing past my lips at the impact. His tongue waltzed across my skin as my blood spilled into his mouth.
My moan echoed though the training hall, and I cared not to stay quiet.
“Please,” I whined as my fingers let go of the dagger, letting it fall onto the marble floor—the clang rang in the hall. “Please.” My nails dug into his skin, pushing him closer.
