My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Victor saw it again, the black hole of obsession.

Her gaze remained locked on his for a few more seconds after those words, and although that intense gleam was still there, something in him had changed.

It didn’t disappear, it didn’t dissipate... but it receded enough to make room for something unexpected.

A slight blush.

It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible under her pale skin, but it was there. Growing slowly, rising up her face like a delayed reaction, as if her body were trying to catch up with what her mind was still processing.

Serafall looked away.

That, in itself, was rare.

But it wasn’t a sudden averting of her gaze, nor one laden with rejection. It was... timid. Restrained. Like someone who, suddenly, didn’t know exactly what to do with what she was feeling.

Her fingers moved slightly, as if searching for something to do, some gesture that would break that strange vulnerability that was settling in without permission.

"...I need..." she began, her voice lower than before, now without that overwhelming weight of authority, "...to dry myself off."

She brought one hand to her own arm, sliding her fingers over the still-damp skin, as if that justified the sudden need to distance herself, even though they both knew it wasn’t just that.

Her eyes returned to him for a moment, quickly, almost as if testing if he was still there, if this was still real.

And then she finished, more firmly, but still with that slight trace of hesitation hidden beneath her composure:

"Go... to my room."

There was a small pause.

Almost imperceptible.

"...I’ll be right there."

Victor didn’t answer immediately.

He just watched her for a moment, absorbing that change, that unexpected break in the posture of someone who, until recently, seemed completely out of control. He found it cute that she was hiding her breasts, and the blush on her cheek deepened with his gaze.

Now—She seemed...almost normal.

Almost.

A corner of his smile lifted slightly, not provocative, not ironic... just satisfied, in a quiet way, like someone who understands more than he says.

Without pressing, without prolonging the moment beyond what was necessary, he released the embrace naturally, his arms slowly sliding away from her body. His fingers still lightly brushed her damp skin for a second longer than necessary, but there was no insistence.

"Okay, darling," he murmured simply.

He took a step back, then another, allowing the space between them to be re-established, but without completely breaking that silent connection that still lingered in the air.

Before leaving, however, he cast one last glance in her direction.

Serafall was still sitting, but now slightly turned to the side, as if she were already preparing to stand, even though she hadn’t yet made the movement. Her damp hair clung slightly to her skin, and the surrounding steam made the scene almost ethereal... distant... yet too intimate to ignore.

She didn’t seem dangerous.

Just... human.

Victor turned without saying anything more and walked out of the bathroom, the sound of the water fading behind him as he crossed the still-warm, steamy room. His steps were calm, carefree, as if there were no hurry... but also as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

As he exited, the air felt cooler. Cleaner.

He ran a hand through his still slightly damp hair, letting out a small sigh as his eyes scanned the room for a moment... He placed his hand on his chest and checked his heartbeat.

"This is different from Carmilla and Scarlet... very different," he said, carefully checking if his heart could handle the 400 beats per second; yes, his heart had easily surpassed any biological barrier in the last ten minutes. The fact that he was alive was something to admire!! Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Serafall remained motionless for a few more seconds after he left.

The sound of the water still fell steadily and somehow, now it seemed louder and more present. She had even forgotten she was in that room.

She slowly brought her hand to her face, lightly touching her still-warm skin, as if trying to confirm something she couldn’t even name herself.

The blush persisted... after all—"he called me darling..." she murmured, her voice almost faltering, as her hand slowly slid down her body, reaching her vagina...

She was damp, sensitive, overcome by an excitement that seemed to pulse in every inch of her skin. It was... good. Intense. Unlike anything she had ever experienced... a feeling so profound that words simply couldn’t express it.

Her whole body trembled.

It was the first time she had felt like this... so desired. So... loved.

And more than that... her obsession overflowed, escaping from within her like something alive.

It was like a symbiote, spreading, taking over every part of her being, whispering—no, screaming—how much more she wanted. More of him. More of that feeling. She wanted to absorb it completely, she wanted that "love" to fill her entirely... almost desperately.

"Calm down..." she murmured to herself, trying to regain control, although her breathing was still irregular.

Her fingers twitched slightly.

"I’ll get this... now..." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment before finally rising from the bench, the water running down her body as she reached for a nearby towel.

But even as she began to dry herself—that itching in her uterus continued like endless despair. She took a deep breath, and inhaled counting to ten as she carefully dried her body.

Serafall remained still for a few more moments, the sound of the water still echoing around her as a constant reminder that she needed to... pull herself together.

Her breathing was still irregular, her chest rising and falling with an intensity that betrayed the turmoil still raging beneath the surface. Slowly, she ran the towel over her body, gesture after gesture, as if each movement were a conscious attempt to regain control over herself.

The fabric glided over her skin, absorbing the moisture as she closed her eyes for a second longer than necessary. The heat from the bath was beginning to dissipate, but what stirred within her... didn’t diminish. On the contrary, it seemed only to organize itself, concentrate, become clearer.

She took a deep breath and counted for ten long seconds, and inhaled. Until she finally opened her eyes again, now more focused.

"Control yourself..." she murmured softly to herself, almost like an order.

With more decisive movements, she finished drying herself, picking up the nearby robe and wrapping it around her body.

The soft fabric fell over her skin, hiding what had previously been exposed, but not diminishing in the slightest the presence she carried. Her fingers adjusted the knot at her waist with almost excessive care, as if that small gesture were the last barrier between chaos and intention.

And then... she left.

The hallway seemed quieter than before, the cooler air contrasting with the heat that still lingered on her skin. Her steps were firm, but not hurried. There was something deliberate in every movement, as if she were savoring the anticipation as much as what was to come.

As she approached the room, the already ajar door allowed her to see him even before fully entering.

Victor stood near the window.

The moonlight streamed through the glass, softly outlining his silhouette, almost ethereal, creating a contrast between shadow and light that made the scene... too quiet. He seemed distant for a moment, lost in thought, like someone who had just experienced something too intense to simply ignore.

Serafall paused for a second.

Just observing... Her eyes scanned every detail... his posture, the way his chest still rose slightly faster than normal, the way he seemed... alive.

And that was enough, completely determined to achieve her main goal since the moment he was born, she moved forward!

The movement was quick, almost impossible to follow. One instant she was at the door... the next, she was inside him. Her hand gripped his shirt firmly, pulling him roughly, completely shattering the calm of the moment.

"Whoa~" Victor didn’t even have time to react.

His body was thrown against the bed with a dry impact, the mattress giving way under his weight as air escaped his lungs in a small, muffled sound. Before he could even form a thought, she was already on top of him.

Mounted.

Dominant.

Her knees were firmly beside his body, her robe slightly disarranged by the abrupt movement, clearly revealing her enormous breasts, her still-damp hair falling around her face as her red eyes stared down at him.

She leaned slightly forward, bringing her face close to his, her breath still warm, still heavy with everything that had been contained until that moment.

And then— A smile appeared.

It was slow and very dangerous, so dangerous that Victor trembled before she uttered the final sentence...

"I will devour you." Her voice came out low, almost a warm breath against his skin, but that didn’t soften anything... on the contrary, it made everything more intimate, denser, more dangerous. It was hunger spoken in a calm tone, it was desire compressed to the breaking point.

And then... something changed... Not in the world... It was in perception.

What Serafall carried within her began to expand like a living force. It wasn’t just emotion; it was presence. It was like an abyss opening behind her, invisible to ordinary eyes, but crushing for anyone who could feel it. A black hole that devoured everything around it, pulling, consuming, promising that nothing would escape.

She had never revealed this side of herself, never shown so much of her true self... But Victor... Victor didn’t recoil from that volatile, devouring aura. And that... was her mistake.

Because when her eyes focused completely on his face, expecting to see a reaction, hesitation, perhaps even excitement mixed with fear—

She found something else.

It was as if the reality around him had distorted, pulled into an indefinable point. His form seemed... present, but at the same time unstable, as if it existed in overlapping layers. And in the center— A boundless black spiral.

Spinning slowly, but with absurd force, as if it were swallowing everything around it, including... her... no! Especially her! She was the main course of that spiral.

His red eyes were still there. But now they seemed brighter, more alive, and very, very hungry.

Serafall froze for a moment. Because what she felt in that second... wasn’t dominance.

It was recognition.

She was obsessive.

She loved in a sick way.

She devoured.

But this—

This was bigger.

Much bigger.

Her obsession was an abyss.

His... was an entire universe collapsing in on itself.

"How cute..." his voice came out low, almost drawn out, but there was something different about it, as if two layers were speaking at the same time... light, almost playful... and another too deep to be measured.

His fingers moved, slowly climbing up her arm, not forcefully... but intentionally. Like someone who didn’t need to hold on, because they knew they wouldn’t lose.

"No one has ever looked at me like this..." he continued, his tone now softer, but laden with something that wasn’t light. "With such hunger..."

His eyes didn’t waver for even a microsecond, they were focused as if his life depended on that look.

"I want you to devour me." He let it out sincerely, completely ignoring the distorted form he perceived in her.

And that made everything worse.

His fingers moved up a little more, touching her face now, slowly gliding across her still-warm skin, as if he were... learning. As if he were memorizing the face of the woman he truly loves more than anyone in the world.

She is the person he loves most, has loved, and will love most in this world. Because she is his mother? No, fuck that blood relation bullshit, it’s worthless.

She is the woman who suffered for thirty years trying to save his life. The woman who, even at the very last moment, didn’t give up on him and cried for him... She is his world, his universe, his existence depends on her, and it is for her that he has done and will do everything.

"If you’re so hungry..." he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that didn’t diminish, didn’t waver, didn’t yield... "...come." He said, "...I am all yours."