"A subject who talks bad about his lord should be punished. Right, 'sweetheart' ?"
Darius' breath ghosted over Xion's cheek. His words were deceptively gentle. But those venomous green eyes betrayed his real intentions.
Xion had called him an antique artifact, of all things. An ominous, cursed relic!
Oh, he'd show Xion exactly how dangerous a "cursed relic" could be.
Leaning down even more until his nose touched the warm skin, he tilted his head to a perfect angle, letting his lips hover over Xion's soft, milky cheek.
He could feel the warmth radiating off his healer's face. His sleeping form was utterly defenceless. Xion was both fragile and helpless.
What a little fool. The archduke mused, But my fool, nonetheless.
Then, he sank his teeth in.
It was not a hard bite that could break the skin and draw blood, but it was still enough.
Enough to make Xion stir slightly in his sleep, enough to leave a perfect imprint of his teeth on that tender face.
