NERON
the hailstorm
”Perfect,” Neron murmured; of course the unicorn wouldn’t be able to help. That would have been easy, that might have generated something like hope in a dire situation. Wouldn’t want to do that now, would we. Continuing on his entirely unfair (and thankfully internal) tirade, he could practically feel it as his mind started to slow. Thoughts felt fuzzy around the edges, like trying to think through soup, and so - unaware that Morgan had even been looking at him to begin with - when the Warden thrust her wrist in front of his face, it took a moment to register what she was doing. What she was offering.
His lips parted as if to say something, before Neron wisely thought better of it, giving her a gentle nod as confirmation that yes, he understood. This was not a gift to spurn and even as he reached for her wrist, he was aware that she could well change her mind even now
But she didn’t, and Neron leant in to press his lips to her flesh, fangs slipping into her veins with an ease that hadn’t been present the first time he’d had to do it. Blood welled and the rush of pleasure was instant, crackling through him like electricity. He couldn’t taste as he had done when he was Abandoned, but he swore that her blood was sweet; he was probably delirious, though.
His lips parted as if to say something, before Neron wisely thought better of it, giving her a gentle nod as confirmation that yes, he understood. This was not a gift to spurn and even as he reached for her wrist, he was aware that she could well change her mind even now
But she didn’t, and Neron leant in to press his lips to her flesh, fangs slipping into her veins with an ease that hadn’t been present the first time he’d had to do it. Blood welled and the rush of pleasure was instant, crackling through him like electricity. He couldn’t taste as he had done when he was Abandoned, but he swore that her blood was sweet; he was probably delirious, though.
