Eternal Embrace [Discontinued For Now]

Chapter 10

I awoke to the muted ambiance of my prison. The memories from the previous night rushed back, overwhelming me—the sharp sting of each spank, the crushing weight of my own surrender, and the eventual, comfort I found in Lyra's arms. I hated myself for how weak I was.

Lyra lay beside me, her face a picture of peace. It was almost jarring to see her so serene when the haunting image of her stained with blood was still fresh in my memory. She was clean now, not a drop of blood on her.

The soft bunny was somehow clutched tightly in my grasp. I didn't remember grabbing it when I lost consciousness. But I couldn't focus on that for long because now, hunger began to gnaw at me, a relentless urge that demanded satisfaction.

Overshadowing the muddled emotions I felt toward Lyra. I hated her so much but my soul and this new part of me needed her blood.

Hesitant yet compelled by this hunger I couldn't control, I slowly leaned towards her. Clumsily I sank my small sensitive fangs into the curve of her neck.

Lyra's reaction was almost immediate. Her body tensed momentarily, and her eyes fluttered open, their depths searching for mine. But instead of pulling away or showing any hint of discomfort, she enfolded me more tightly in her embrace.

Her fingers stroked my hair gently.

It was scary. This tenderness was driving me crazy. I found myself lost in the maze of my own feelings, unable to understand how one person could be the source of both my torment and my comfort.

When I pulled away, a profound emptiness consumed me. The emotional and physical turmoil I'd endured had drained me, leaving me feeling like a shell, craving peace and quietness for once.

The weight of the recent events pressed on my shoulders, pushing me to seek some semblance of solitude, even if I was just a few inches away from the very source of my torment. I tried to shuffle away, clutching the plush bunny as if it was a lifeline.

However, my feeble attempts to create any sort of distance were quickly thwarted. Lyra's fingers curled around my wrist, gently but firmly pulling me back against her. I found myself enveloped in the warmth of her embrace once more.

Lyra's gaze then shifted from me to the soft bunny I clung to. There was a soft glint in her eyes, contrasting the dominant aura she usually exuded. "What's his name?" she inquired, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Without thinking, I replied, "Bunny." My voice horse and low. I hadn't called it anything else.

Her laughter, light and unburdened, filled the space. She extended a hand, shaking the bunny's fluffy paw. "Well, hello there, Bunny. I'm Lyra. That's quite the unique name you've got."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. In the quiet, my thoughts waged war within me. I berated myself for every flutter of want, every tinge of dependency that I felt towards Lyra. It wasn't just about seeking comfort; it felt like a betrayal to my still human self. The conflicting emotions raged inside me—wanting to despise her for what she had done and how she made me feel, yet at the same time, yearning for her.