The club shimmered with crimson and violet lights, the music low and enticing—a pulse beneath the skin rather than just a sound. In a shadowed booth of the venue they’d visited many times before, Woowind sipped a glass of red wine that barely masked her deeper thirst. Craken sat across from her, the glow of the lights catching in his eyes and drawing her in like a predator scenting blood.
He looked particularly inviting tonight, his collar slightly loosened, lips parted as he whispered something flirtatious. She only smirked in return, her crimson gaze flashing with mischief. “You know you’re mine tonight,” she murmured, voice low, commanding, and dripping with sensual promise.
They danced—close, slow, suggestive. Her fingers grazed his neck as she leaned in, letting him feel the heat of her breath against his skin. His pulse raced beneath her touch, and she could hear it. Craken was hers before he even knew it.
By the time they returned to their home in the Mists, the facade of playfulness had unraveled. The door closed behind them with a soft click, and the air thickened. Moonlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows as Woowind stepped toward him, her heels echoing on the floor like a countdown.
“Kneel,” she said—no louder than a whisper, but it struck with force. Craken obeyed, eyes dark with anticipation. She circled him slowly, her fingers brushing his shoulders, then tangling in his hair as she tilted his head back to look into his eyes.
“You forget who I am when I play nice,” she purred. “Let me remind you.”
The evening unfolded with a slow burn. Her dominance was velvet-wrapped steel, seductive and commanding. Craken surrendered completely, his pleasure entwined with submission as she took her time, dragging him through waves of sensation and breathless need. Every kiss was a claim. Every whispered word was a chain wrapped around his will.
And when the night reached its peak, Woowind sank her fangs into his neck, not just for blood—but for power, for connection, for the eternal echo of desire that bound them. He moaned beneath her as ecstasy and pain danced together, until she finally released him, breathless and marked.
She licked the last trace of crimson from her lips, her eyes glowing with satisfaction. “Good boy,” she whispered, pulling him into her lap like a trophy conquered.
Outside, the moon hung low and heavy in the sky. Inside, only the sounds of slow breathing and the occasional flick of candlelight broke the silence.