My Blood Legacy: Bloodlines

Rakshasa was lying on top of Victor, completely naked and apparently with no intention of moving away anytime soon. Her body covered most of his, still warm from what had happened between them, while Victor slowly ran his fingers through the long dark-brown hair spread across her back. Unlike the provocative vampire who had spent months trying to drag him into bed, Rakshasa seemed strangely relaxed at that moment, her face resting on his chest and her eyes half-lidded.

"My womb is full of your love fluids," she murmured, visibly pleased with herself.

Victor stopped moving his fingers for a moment.

"You say that with impressive delicacy for someone who was being so rough a few minutes ago."

Rakshasa lifted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I was being rough?" She rested her chin on his chest. "You were the rough one. My private parts still hurt a little."

Victor raised an eyebrow.

"You didn’t seem worried about that when you were screaming at me to slap your ass and go harder."

Rakshasa’s face immediately turned red.

She stared at Victor for several seconds, as though trying to decide whether to deny it or simply kill him to preserve her dignity.

"I got carried away."

"A lot."

"It was my first time with you."

"That doesn’t explain half the things you said."

Rakshasa pinched one of his cheeks.

"Keep talking and I’ll rip your tongue out."

Victor caught her wrist, still smiling.

"You’d probably ask me to regenerate it afterward."

"Naturally. I like your tongue."

"How romantic."

Rakshasa huffed and rested her face against him again. The silence that followed was comfortable. Victor continued playing with her hair while he felt his body finally relax after months of living almost entirely within a routine of training, refinement, and constant humiliation at Yu Jin Cheon’s hands. Rakshasa also seemed to enjoy the temporary absence of obligations, although she still had enough energy to draw small circles over his chest with the tip of one finger.

"So?" she asked after some time. "Was it worth the wait?"

Victor looked at the ceiling.

"If I say no, are you going to try to prove otherwise?"

"Yes."

"Then it was very much worth the wait."

Rakshasa smiled in satisfaction.

"Smart answer."

Victor was about to make another comment when he heard the distant sound of a door opening in the hallway. His perception identified the presence before the footsteps even began approaching.

He recognized it immediately.

"We should probably get dressed before—"

Rakshasa climbed on top of him.

Victor did not even finish the sentence. She held his face between her hands and kissed him without any concern for who was approaching. Victor instinctively grabbed her waist, but his eyes opened when he noticed the door handle moving.

Serafall entered.

She took two steps into the room and stopped.

Victor was lying on the bed.

Rakshasa was naked on top of him.

The two of them were still kissing.

Serafall was completely speechless.

For approximately two seconds.

Then the entire room was crossed by an almost invisible line.

Rakshasa stopped.

Victor blinked.

Her body split apart.

Not into two or three pieces. Thousands of cuts crossed Rakshasa simultaneously from every direction, turning her into an absurd amount of tiny cubes before she could even ask what was happening. The pieces collapsed over Victor and spread across the bed, covering his chest, arms, and face.

Victor remained still.

A small piece of Rakshasa’s face slid off his forehead.

He looked at Serafall.

"What was that for?"

Serafall remained standing near the door with the same empty expression.

Victor removed a tiny cube of Rakshasa from his hair.

"You know I love you."

"You love me," Serafall corrected while pulling an envelope from inside her coat. "Not ’you only love me.’"

Victor fell silent.

That was far too dangerous a distinction to argue about with his own mother.

Serafall threw the envelope toward him. Victor caught it in midair with one hand while Rakshasa’s pieces began moving around his body.

"What’s this?"

Serafall was already turning to leave.

"You have eyes. Read it."

"You came in here, turned my master into a salad, and now you’re leaving?"

"Yes."

"You’re becoming more and more like Grandma."

Serafall stopped for half a second.

Victor immediately realized he might have gone too far.

She decided not to come back.

The door closed behind her.

Victor sighed and looked at the thousands of pieces scattered over the bed. The blood slowly began pulling itself together, drawing flesh, bone, and tissue as though each fragment knew exactly where it needed to return. Within seconds, a reddish mass began taking human shape beside him.

Rakshasa’s head was one of the first parts to finish.

She opened her eyes.

"Damn."

Victor looked at her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Rakshasa moved her neck while her shoulders finished reforming. "Your mother has gotten really soft."

Victor stared at the thousands of pieces still rearranging themselves.

"Soft?"

"Back then she would’ve destroyed all my organs first, infused energy into the cuts to prevent regeneration, and probably left me like this for a few hours."

Victor fell silent.

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"A little."

The rest of her body finished reconstructing. Rakshasa sat naked beside him, checked her arms, and then extended a hand toward the envelope.

"Let me see."

Victor handed it over.

She broke the seal, pulled out the card inside, and read it quickly. A smile appeared almost immediately.

"Oh."

Victor noticed.

"What?"

Rakshasa waved the invitation between her fingers.

"It’s that time again."

"What time?"

"The Gala."

Victor gave her a blank look.

"What?"

"The Valentine Gala." Rakshasa kept reading. "Every year the family gathers the important members, presents the promising young generation, and creates a wonderful opportunity for nobles to drink wine while trying to figure out who their children should marry."

Victor already looked tired.

"I don’t want to go."

"Your name is highlighted."

"Still don’t want to go."

"It also says the top participants from the Ascension Ritual will be honored."

Victor let his head fall back onto the pillow.

"Even worse."

Rakshasa looked at the date.

"Strange."

"What?"

"This usually happens around two months after the Ritual." She paused and calculated the time. "It’s already been eight months."

Victor opened one eye.

"Maybe they delayed it because of the problems with the werewolves."

"Probably. Between Bramford, military mobilization, the borders, and the risk of war, I imagine nobody was very interested in organizing a party."

Victor extended a hand and took the invitation again.

At the bottom was the official seal of the Valentine Family, accompanied by a note making it very clear that his presence was expected.

He stared at it.

Rakshasa smiled.

"You’re going."

"No."

"You are."

"I could be training."

"Your master can give you the night off."

"My master is your father."

"Exactly. I order him around."

Victor looked at her.

Rakshasa held the lie for two seconds.

"Fine. I’ll ask."

Victor returned his attention to the invitation while Rakshasa settled beside him.

After six months of isolation, apparently it was time to appear before the Valentine Family again.

And for the first time since the Ascension Ritual, everyone would be able to see exactly how much he had changed.

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