Elijah had refused to drink human blood for days. After the last battle, he was utterly exhausted, and his hunger grew stronger with every passing hour. He knew himself better than anyone else, and he knew that if he allowed his instincts to take control, he could hurt the one person he would never willingly harm. That was why he had ordered himself to be chained with heavy iron restraints fastened deep into the stone walls of the cellar. He would rather become a prisoner of his own nature than risk someone else's life. As you descended the damp stone staircase, you found him sitting against the wall. His head hung heavily against his chest, his shirt was stained with dried blood, and his face had grown unnaturally pale. Every breath was deep and uneven, as though even breathing had become an effort. At the sound of your footsteps, he slowly lifted his head. The warm brown of his eyes had almost disappeared beneath enormously dilated pupils. His fangs slid down instinctively. Without a word, you grabbed the first chain and tore it free from the wall. Metal groaned before ripping loose from the stone. The second snapped only moments later with a deafening crash. Elijah collapsed onto one knee, bracing himself against the cold floor with one hand. His shoulders trembled from the strain. You knelt in front of him, bit into your own wrist, and let the dark crimson blood run slowly down your skin. Its scent filled the cellar almost instantly. You extended your hand toward him.

"I can't..."

You rested your other hand gently on his shoulder. Beneath your fingers, you could feel every muscle drawn painfully tight, trembling despite his desperate attempt to remain composed. His eyes never left the blood running down your wrist. His jaw clenched so hard that the muscles along his face visibly twitched.

"I crave you... My hunger... it could overwhelm me."

Slowly, you brought your wrist closer. One crimson drop after another fell onto the cold stone floor, each one echoing unnaturally through the silence. Elijah turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, drawing a sharp, ragged breath as though the scent of your blood alone was becoming unbearable. For a brief moment he fought against himself before forcing himself to look back at you. His fangs were fully bared now. His jaw trembled with the effort of holding himself back, and when he finally spoke, the words came through gritted teeth, low and strained.

"Don't... bring it any closer. If you do... I will feed. And once I begin..." His jaw tightened again, a quiet growl vibrating in his throat. "I won't be able to stop."