I tried to pull away. This is so wrong... My fingers dug into the ground, nails scraping dirt as I tried to brace myself and move back, to break free from that addictive warmth. My jaw tightened, but my fangs refused to let go, my body clinging to her like a starving animal finally given food. In a way, I was.

Then her hand slid into my hair.

"Elira…" I tried to say, but my voice drowned in her skin.

Her fingers curled at the back of my head, gently, almost soothingly, and instead of pushing me away, she pressed me closer. Her chin rested lightly against the top of my head, her breathing calm and steady, even as I drank from her. I felt her chest rise and fall slowly, as if she was the one handling this hunger for me.

"It is alright," she whispered, her breath vibrating through her shoulder into my lips. "Take as much as you need."

That was the problem. I did not know what I needed. I only knew what I wanted.

Heat spread through my body in waves. My fingers stopped shaking. The dull ache in my muscles faded. The emptiness in my chest, the hollow echo of hunger that had been gnawing at me for days, began to fill with her warmth.

Her heartbeat thrummed against my mouth, steady at first, then a little faster, like she was running but sitting perfectly still. I felt her blood flow into me, flooding my veins with power.

It crept in slowly, but then it surged all at once, like a cracked dam. My senses sharpened almost instantly: the sound of leaves rustling overhead grew painfully clear, every grain of dirt under my fingers became distinct. The world brightened at the edges, colors deepened. Even the wind around us felt heavier, as if it carried her scent on every current.

I felt terrified, because I was losing myself.

No... Enough!

With a sudden effort, I forced my jaw to relax. My fangs slid out of her skin, and I let my lips linger for a moment longer before tearing myself away. Warm liquid stained my tongue. I swallowed the last remaining taste, my breaths coming out heavy, uneven.

I looked up at her.

Her face was a little pale, but she was still very much awake. A thin line of blood trickled from the bite mark down her shoulder, disappearing beneath the fabric of her robe. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes were half lidded, soft and dazed, yet somehow calm.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

I almost laughed.

"How am I…?" My voice came out rough. "I should be asking you that. I just… I almost did not stop."

Her lips curved into a small, tired smile. "But you did stop."

And I was glad I did.

I pushed at her gently, trying to create some space between us. Her weight shifted off my hips, and for the first time I realized just how close we had been pressed together. My body felt too hot, too aware of every point where our skin had nearly touched.

"I am fine now," I muttered, sitting up and wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Golden blood smeared my skin. "I feel… full."

Full was an understatement. I felt like my entire body had been rewired. The fatigue from the system challenge, the lingering ache in my bones, even the dull sting of old wounds, all of it was gone. I felt light and sharp, as if I could take on the world and tear it apart with my bare hands.

"Thank you," I added stiffly, not sure where to look.

Awkward silence settled between us, thicker than the trees around us. Elira drew her robe back over her shoulder, her fingers carefully covering the bite mark. Her eyes flickered to me, then to the ground, then to somewhere far away.

I needed some room to breathe. Think... Move... Anything...

"So," I said, clearing my throat, eager to grasp at whatever excuse I could find, "I should… check on Beelzebub. He has been sleeping for too long. That cannot be normal, right?"

Elira blinked, like she had just come back from somewhere inside her mind. "Beelzebub?"

"The little furball," I said, trying to sound casual, even as my heart still beat too fast.

I stood up a little too quickly, swaying before catching myself. The rush of power was still making my body feel strange, like I had grown too large for my own skin. I shook it off and walked over to where the tiny hamster lay curled on the ground, nothing more than a fluffy ball of fur.

I crouched beside him and poked his side with one finger.

Nothing...

"Beelzebub," I called, trying to sound stern. "Wake up."

Poke.

Still nothing.

I narrowed my eyes. "If you are actually dead, I am not digging a grave for you. You will be compost. I am warning you."

I poked again at its fat cheek, a little harder this time. Still nothing. No twitch, no squeak, no reaction at all.

Elira shuffled closer, her steps a little unsteady but determined. She knelt beside me, worry clouding her golden eyes. "Do you think something is wrong?"

"I don't know..." My brows furrowed in worry. "He's my summon, but I have no idea how to communicate with him, not like this. Maybe he just absorbed too much blood, or the battle drained him more than I thought." My words faded, the sentence losing its shape as I realized the system was offering no guidance. I was standing in the dark, completely alone with my guesswork.

I sighed and poked Beelzebub again, this time lifting up a bit of his fur and letting it flop back down. His little nose did not twitch. His whiskers did not move.

"He is not even pretending," I said, frowning. "Did he run out of mana or something? Can summons do that?"

The thought bothered me more than I wanted to admit. Beelzebub had been with us since I received my reward, and even if it's only been a day, the idea of losing him left an uncomfortable tightness in my chest.

Elira bit her lower lip. "He used a lot of power before. Maybe the strain was too much."

"So he burned himself out," I said. "Great. Another one who doesn't know his limits." I sighed softly, realizing I was mocking myself as much as him. The memory of my fight with Hera flickered through my mind, a reminder that recklessness was something I still hadn't outgrown.

I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to think. The system had recognized him as my summon, connected to me through some kind of pact. If that was the case, then maybe there was more to it. Summons had contracts, symbiotic ties. If he was weakened, there had to be a way to feed that bond.

Feed...

The thought lingered in my mind. My eyes flicked toward Elira for a heartbeat before returning to Beelzebub's tiny, still body. A reckless idea began to take shape in my head, something so absurd it almost made me laugh. But still, I hoped, just maybe, it would work.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.