“Your blood...” Scar’s voice was a low, hungry murmur as he approached, his gaze fixated on you. “It calls to me.”

His cold fingers traced the curves of your face, each touch a trembling testament to his desire. “I want you so badly,” he confessed, his eyes shadowed with an intense longing. “But I fear what I might become if I give in.”

Every beat of your heart was a sharp reminder of the essence he craved, its rhythmic pulse nearly driving him to madness. Scar’s hands hovered near your throat, the struggle to contain his craving etched in his expression. “This hunger... it’s maddening,” he admitted, his voice a strained whisper.

With immense effort, he pulled back, his eyes closing as he battled against the overwhelming urge. “I will wait,” he vowed, his voice thick with restraint. “For now, I will endure this agony... for you.”