Live With Your Blood || LingOrm

Prologue (Year 1805)

The midnight air was cool, filled with the fragrance of blooming jasmine. In the noble estate's garden, hidden away from prying eyes, Prig walked along the moonlit path. She moved quietly, her light footsteps barely disturbing the peace of the night. The garden was their secret place, a sanctuary where she could be with her lover without fear.

As she approached a small clearing, Prig saw Ling waiting for her, standing tall and elegant, like a figure out of a dream. Ling's pale skin seemed to glow under the silver light of the moon, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes, deep and mysterious, softened when they met Prig's gaze.

"You're late," Ling teased, her lips curling into a smile that revealed a hint of her sharp fangs.

"I got held up by Hen," Prig replied, rolling her eyes. "He's always so overprotective."

Ling chuckled, reaching out to take Prig's hand. "He means well, but I'm glad you're here now."

They walked together through the garden, their hands entwined, as if the world outside their little haven didn't exist. The flowers around them bloomed in full glory, and Prig couldn't resist picking a few jasmine to weave into Ling's hair.

"Beautiful," Prig whispered, admiring her handiwork.

"Not as beautiful as you," Ling responded, pulling Prig closer. "You always know how to make me feel human."

Prig smiled, resting her head on Ling's shoulder as they strolled. "Maybe because I'm still human."

"But you're mine," Ling whispered, her voice full of possessive affection.

As they continued to enjoy their time together, neither of them noticed the shadows moving among the trees. They didn't sense the danger lurking just out of sight-the vampire hunters who had been following Prig for days, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The hunters had studied their every move, learned their habits, and identified the one time when Ling would be vulnerable: during the day, when the sun's rays were at their strongest. They were patient, biding their time until they could launch an attack that would rid the world of another vampire.

But tonight, the hunters decided to test their patience no longer. A cold wind rustled through the leaves as they drew their weapons, silently preparing for an ambush.

Meanwhile, Ling and Prig had made their way to a secluded spot in the garden, where the moonlight bathed them in its gentle glow. They stood together, looking up at the stars, blissfully unaware of the danger that was closing in.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," Prig murmured, her eyes fixed on the sky.

"We will," Ling replied firmly. "Nothing can take you away from me."

Prig was about to respond when she suddenly tensed, her senses picking up something unusual. She turned her head sharply, her eyes scanning the darkened garden.

"What is it?" Ling asked, noticing the change in Prig's demeanor.

"We're not alone," Prig whispered, her voice tight with fear.

Before Ling could react, the first arrow whizzed through the air, narrowly missing them and embedding itself into the ground. The sound of it slicing through the air was like a signal, and suddenly, more arrows began to rain down on them.

"Run!" Ling shouted, grabbing Prig's hand and pulling her into the bushes.

They dove for cover as arrows continued to strike around them. Ling's vampire instincts kicked in, her senses heightened as she scanned the area for their attackers. She could hear the hunters approaching, their movements slow and methodical as they closed in on their prey.