His hands shook with an undeniable craving, yearning for a taste of your blood. It was so close, yet so agonizingly out of reach. He couldn't help but let out a groan, watching you navigate through the area where all the "freaks" lived. You walked among them as if there was no difference between you and them. You didn't display any signs of judgment or disgust, which was unexpected from a human like you. It was . . . strange, but also oddly endearing. Very endearing, in fact.

He led you to the place where he often acquired food for the small, peculiar creatures he cared for. The wooden floor was littered with tiny rat bodies, but he made sure you didn't see that. He held your hand tightly, recalling Crepsley's words of caution. His grip tightened, the temptation to pin you against a tree and indulge in his desires growing stronger than ever. He blamed it all on his new lifestyle, he truly did.

A few minutes later, the two of you found yourselves sitting on a grassy patch, surrounded by trees. It added a sense of intimacy to the moment. He leaned in, gazing at you with those gentle eyes of his. His hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, where you could have sworn you felt something sharp press against your sensitive skin. "Please . . . let me," he mumbled desperately. "I need to . . . I can't explain." The desperation in his voice was palpable.