A New Gift [R18]

The world had narrowed to heat, friction, and Mariel's raw, broken moans.

Arven gritted his teeth as he drove into her again, sweat dripping from his brow. His muscles burned, every inch of him strained to keep going.

Four rounds.

The head maid's body had long since lost any pretense of control. She writhed beneath him, hair a tangled mess, face flushed crimson. Her voice had devolved into choked sobs of pleasure, each thrust sending fresh cries echoing through the cramped closet.

He wasn't sure how he was still moving. Instinct? The System? Sheer stubbornness?

Mariel clung to him weakly, nails raking across his back with what little strength she had left.

Her hips bucked one final time, body seizing in a violent climax that left her gasping, nails digging in as if to anchor herself to the world.

And then… she slumped.

Her head lolled against the wall, chest heaving, legs spread wantonly. The floor beneath them was slick with sweat and sex, the scent of their combined release heavy in the air.

Arven pulled out slowly, cock twitching, his own release spent.

Mariel let out a soft, shuddering breath but did not move. Her eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling faintly.

Finally.

He staggered back, leaning against the opposite wall, chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths.

Was it enough? Did I buy her the time she needed?

No way to know. But he had played his part to the limit.

Forcing his legs to move, Arven wiped himself down as best he could, straightened his clothing, and unlocked the closet door.

He stepped into the cool hallway, the relative silence almost deafening after what had come before.

The halls remained empty. No sign of guards, no sign of Mariel's usual presence.

Satisfied, or at least hopeful, Arven began the slow walk toward Lady Celyne's chambers.

His body ached with every step. Muscles burned, and a deep fatigue settled into his bones. Still, he pressed on.

The faint remnants of System text pulsed at the edge of his awareness.

Engagement path: Advanced.

Target state: Stabilized.

Further opportunities pending.

Physical Strength Increased.

Good enough, he thought grimly.

At least the System seemed satisfied.

The corridors leading to Celyne's wing were quiet. No servants in sight. The mansion felt different now, as if the very air had shifted.

A deeper silence. The kind that followed blood.

He reached the grand doors of her chambers and pushed them open carefully.

And stopped.

Daisy sat atop Celyne's lap, her small form trembling with each roll of Celyne's slender fingers.

The noblewoman lounged elegantly against the cushioned seat, one arm wrapped possessively around Daisy's waist, the other buried beneath the folds of the girl's skirt.

Daisy's face was flushed, eyes half-lidded, breath coming in quick, shallow pants.

Her moans filled the room, soft and helpless.

Celyne glanced up as Arven entered, a faint smirk playing across her lips.

"Should I… come back later?" Arven asked dryly, though his voice held a rasp from exhaustion.

Celyne chuckled softly, fingers never slowing their rhythm.

"No. Come in. We are nearly done."

Arven hesitated only a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching.

Daisy whimpered, hips rocking against Celyne's hand. The poor girl was already too far gone to notice his presence.

Celyne's voice was calm, almost conversational.

"This house," she began, "is tainted. Not so long ago, a spell was woven into its bones. A curse, of sorts. Every few days, it stirs… driving the residents into states of… heightened need."

Her fingers curled inside Daisy, drawing a strangled cry from the girl.

"Only two were unaffected," Celyne continued. "The owner, Pracius, the pervert that he was, and myself."

She let that hang for a moment, lips curling faintly.

Daisy's moans grew louder, her body trembling violently.

Arven frowned. "You? Immune? How?"

Celyne smiled.

"It affects every race. Every bloodline… save a few."

She tilted her head slightly, eyes gleaming.

Then she opened her mouth, revealing a pair of sharp, gleaming fangs.

"I became a vampire some time ago," she said softly. "A small price to bypass every foolish spell that man layered into this place."

Her fingers twisted suddenly, sending Daisy over the edge. The girl cried out, hips jerking as she collapsed against Celyne's chest, shuddering.

Celyne stroked her hair gently, voice still cool.

"What I do not understand," she murmured, gaze shifting to Arven, "is how you are unaffected."

Arven's mind raced. The truth was no option.

He straightened. "I am skilled in magic," he said calmly. "Warding arts."

Celyne's gaze sharpened. Her fingers continued to move slowly inside Daisy, who moaned weakly against her.

"I would not be surprised," she said after a moment. "You carry a strange aura."

For a brief silence, the only sound was Daisy's ragged breathing.

Then Celyne seemed to come to a decision.

"I will soon cleanse this house," she said. "The old staff will be dismissed. Only Daisy and Mariel will remain."

Her eyes gleamed faintly.

"As for you, i have something."

Arven raised a brow. "What exactly?"

Celyne smiled. "As a reward for your service… and as a parting gift… I offer you freedom from the weakness of a human body."

She leaned forward slightly, voice dropping.

"I can make you as I am. A vampire. Power beyond what you know… though you will lose the sun."

Her fingers slowed, bringing Daisy to a trembling stillness.

Arven considered.

No sun. A loss, certainly.

But power… power he would need.

Soon he would be outside these walls. A lone man in a dangerous world. Any edge mattered.

He met Celyne's gaze.

"I accept."

Celyne's smile deepened.

"Good."

She eased Daisy aside gently, the girl collapsing onto the cushions in a dazed, panting heap.

Celyne rose, graceful and fluid.

She approached Arven slowly, eyes half-lidded.

"Come here," she whispered.

Arven stepped forward, pulse quickening.

Celyne's fingers traced his jaw lightly, lifting his chin.

"You have served well," she murmured.

Then she kissed him.

Her lips were soft, cool at first, then demanding. The kiss deepened quickly, her body pressing against his.

A flicker of heat surged through him, pleasure laced with sharp anticipation.

Then he felt it.

A sudden prick at his neck, sharp, electric.

Celyne's fangs sank into his flesh as her lips claimed his.

A groan escaped him, the mix of pain and pleasure sending shivers down his spine.

She drank slowly, rhythmically, her fingers threading through his hair as their bodies pressed together.

Heat built within him, spreading outward, then inward. A strange, pulsing energy that set his veins alight.

The world blurred. His senses sharpened. Every sound, every touch seemed amplified.

Then, as swiftly as it began, she withdrew.

Her tongue traced the small wounds, sealing them with a soft kiss.

Celyne leaned back slightly, eyes gleaming crimson.

"Welcome to a new life," she whispered.

Arven swayed, heart pounding, breath ragged.