Slice.

A barrier between mind and vessel, unceremoniously peeled apart due to your carelessness. A small droplet of blood seeped its way out of your body, the crimson hue staining the searing skin of your index finger. It was just a simple cut one could receive performing chores in a palace as grandiose as an emperor’s, and yet to Feng-Gui, it was akin to the most experienced temptress. The vampire brought a silken ebony robe to his sharp nose, masking the mouth-watering scent of your injury.

“Dress it at once,”

Feng-Gui ordered calmly, though under the lengthy sleeves of his robes, sharp claws indented his skin with such ferocity that it would draw blood dare he apply the slightest more bit of pressure. Each digit went taut with calculated ease. The undead creature could not afford to hurt you, a human with a face akin to his lover from centuries’ past. The very thought went against what he’d built for himself since he’d turned.

“To display yourself in this state is an insult to my noble name.”