Part Two: Feed


She closed her eyes. He was strangely gentle with her as he loomed over her. The sharp nails, usually so dangerous, were careful as they trailed down her cheek. C.C. tried not to shirk away when she felt his warm breath on her ear. She was a woman of her word and she’d be damned if she were going to betray her honor.

But she couldn’t help shivering when she felt his tongue languidly run up her neck.

“Wouldn’t want the pretty little miss to get blood poisoning now, would we?”

“As if you care,” she muttered. She felt him straightening up and she opened an eye to wordlessly ask why he had stopped.

“I do care. I care very much what happen to those I feed from. Why would I not? Do you truly think of me as some savage monster?”

“Just get on with it already,” she growled. “Before I change my mind.”

“You really think I would let you escape now that I have you in my grasp? My, my, I knew you thought ill of us but I never knew you had this low of an opinion. Honestly,” His indignity mellowed into sorrow, “what have I done for you to think so poorly of us?”

“Could it be… You wish to be one of us? You try to pretend you still hate us and end up overcompensating… Yes, that could be it.”

She knew he was smirking – she could see it perfectly in her mind’s eye. But she refused to take the obvious bait he had lay out, so she ignored him.

“Or perhaps… You fancy someone. Who might it be? Mao? Tamaki? Or better yet, Suzaku. Such a shame… I’ve never come across a woman so far from his ideal mate. Better luck next time.”

He was watching her, waiting for a reaction. How childish. She would have laughed if he weren’t standing in front of her about to puncture her neck. This was the notorious Dark Prince? How laughable. For all his self-proclaimed age and wisdom, he was extremely immature.

“I’m just trying to put you at ease, love,” he murmured. “You seem so… Nervous.”

“No one is nervous here,” she hissed. He pressed his lips lightly against her pulse and she couldn’t help but tense. Straightening, he tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“Poor child. You’re frightened to death, aren’t you? Not to worry. I’ll take very good care of you. I promise it won’t hurt a bit.”


“I can make it excruciatingly painful, if that’s what you wish. Or I can make it so that you can enjoy it almost as much as I will.”

“Enjoy it?” She scoffed. “As if any sane person would enjoy something like this.”

“We’ll see in good time who’s right and who’s wrong… Don’t you agree?”

His lips – and teeth – were dangerously close now. He began kissing her lightly, suckling and swirling his tongue over her creamy skin, priming her for what was to come. C.C. subconsciously held her breath as she waited.

The moment his teeth sunk into her, a gasp flew out from her lips as she desperately reached for something, anything, to grab onto. Oh God, she knew how jarring it was to be feasted on but nothing could have prepared her for this. None of the survivors’ accounts, none of the research and carefully conducted experiments, none of the training could have braced her for this. It was so disorienting and painful, and yet strangely pleasing… Her eyes fluttered close. It was as if she were detached from her body. Everything felt surreal, everything seemed sluggish as if time were slowing down, and her knees were suddenly so weak, she could barely stand on her own as he devoured her.

It was a strange and perplexing mixture of euphoria and pain, but as he continued, the agony soon subsided to a quiet discomfort, which in turn was quickly drowned out by the pleasure. Why did it feel so good? He was a parasite – he was stealing from her what was rightfully hers, even if she had granted him permission, he was taking her life force, what kept her alive. And yet… Yet here she was, her nails digging into his wrists as she pressed against him, straining for more.

She wasn’t thinking straight. Her head was all cloudy and she could barely put together a coherent train of thought as he fed from her. Her hands slowly let go of him. Creeping up to his shoulders, she tightly gripped the cloth of his shirt, preparing to push him away and rip his teeth out if need be. Oh God, it was heaven and hell in one. She wanted him to let her go but at the same time never wanted to be released from his intoxicating hold.

God have mercy on her.

Lelouch was growing more and more excited, which couldn’t be good. And then, before she could protest and tell him that enough was enough, he pushed in deeper. Her eyes snapped open as she let out a soft scream. Somewhere, somehow, through the fog, she could make out his hand, which had been tangled with the fabric of her dress, was gripping the window ledge. His knuckles were turning whiter and whiter as he pushed in deeper and deeper until the marble finally splintered and she lost what little of her ability to stand she had left.

He caught her, refusing to let anything interrupt. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning on him, while he continued to ravage her. A warm liquid trailed down her collarbone and she dazedly wondered what it was before realizing that it was her own blood. Her blood, the blood that he had vied for, the blood that kept her alive, was freely running and soaking the low neckline of her dress. Her fingers wove through his silky hair as her breathing became more and more labored. Why did it feel so good? It wasn’t supposed to, it was supposed to make her want to push away from him, it was supposed to make her kill him, not want him even more. It wasn’t supposed to make her burn with desire.

Lelouch moaned as he struggled to control himself. He wasn’t a God fearing man. Why, he was no man, and he was the closest thing to a god, albeit a cursed one. But everything he had suspected about her, everything he had fantasized about, was coming true and it was driving him insane how delicious she was. He couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. He wanted all of her. He wanted to keep her all to himself, wanted no other to even look at her. And with every drop he drank, reason and sanity were ebbing until he had almost been completely deserted by them. He coiled his arms around her waist as he desperately drank her in. It was vicious, it was crude, and he had never lost control over blood like this, but now he could finally understand what bloodlust felt like. Now he understood, now he knew just how powerful it was and how disciplined women and men could deteriorate into slobbering monsters no different from the common beast.

“L… Lelouch… Lelouch, that’s enough,” she whimpered. “Too much… Too much…”

He wanted to pull away. The rational side of him demanded that he stop at once, screamed at him to control himself, but he wasn’t listening anymore. He was deaf to everyone, save for his lust. He had become a slave to desire and pleasure, had willingly bowed down. But then he heard her asking him to show her that he wasn’t the monster he claimed he wasn’t, telling him that she knew he wasn’t a monster, and he finally felt her digging her nails into the back of his hand, not out of pleasure, but out of fear, and realized how grave of a mistake he had made to be so completely absorbed with himself.

Slowly, so as not to hurt her even more than he already had, he pulled away. There was blood everywhere. The neckline of her dress, which had been a light grey, was a deep crimson. His own shirt bore bloodstains, and there was no doubt that he looked like the devil himself with her blood trailing down his chin.

He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. His eyes closed, he fought to catch his breath as he apologized to her.

“I did my best… To make it pleasurable for you. But it clearly wasn’t enough… I apologize,” he breathed. “My apologies….”

“I just want a bath,” she said thinly. Lightheaded, she closed her eyes as she collapsed onto him. “A bath, Lelouch.”

“If a bath is what you desire, then a bath is what you will be rewarded.”

He picked her up carefully, gently, as if she were made of glass and he were afraid that she would shatter any moment. Resting her head on his shoulder, C.C. allowed herself to finally give in to the seraphs and their promises of rest and reprieve, to their promise of a peaceful haven, as she was carried away into the depths of the Dark Prince’s lair.


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