The cross symbolizing the heir of the Morris family fell to the ground at the girl's feet.
The ruby embedded in the cross shimmered with a blood-like brilliance under the sunlight, but no one paid it any further attention...
Anran's actions caught Richard completely off guard. For a moment, he was truly stunned.
Her fear, her hesitation, her resolve, her courage—he saw it all. The moment she removed the cross, his breath stopped. Suddenly, her eyes seemed brighter to him than the sun itself.
Richard took another step forward, until their noses were almost touching. The distance between them was so close that he could see the tremble of her lashes.
Anran was both nervous and uneasy. Richard exhaled softly and placed his hand on her face, slowly tracing its contours, feeling the warmth of her skin.
Finally, his fingers lingered over the pulse at her neck. Anran felt the coolness of his touch and instinctively held her breath.
Though his instincts were screaming within him, Richard didn't seem in a rush to drink her blood. His slender fingers lingered, caressing the pale skin of her neck...
The tingling sensation made the girl glare at him in dissatisfaction.
Richard chuckled, his expression almost bewitching. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, and whispered, "It might hurt a little at first..."
At his words, Anran's body trembled slightly. Slowly, she closed her eyes.
———
With her eyes shut, her senses became heightened. Anran felt his lips move downward, soon pressing firmly against the pulse at her neck...
When coolness met warmth, Anran shivered. She grew even more tense, knowing what was about to happen.
Time seemed to freeze in that moment. His lips stayed pressed against her neck, but there were no fangs, no pain—nothing like she had imagined. Instead, she felt increasingly flustered.
"Richard, what... what are you doing?" Anran asked nervously, her eyes still tightly shut.
"Anran, your body is too stiff. You're too tense..." His seductive voice felt like a spell.
Anran couldn't help but take a deep breath, trying to relax her body. But then she felt an arm tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.
Noticing his action, Anran quickly opened her eyes. Her face flushed red as she pressed her hands against his chest and stammered, "Richard, you're holding me too tight."
Yet, the hands around her slender waist showed no intention of loosening their grip. The more Anran struggled, the tighter they held her.
Helpless, Anran gave up fighting. She asked, "Richard, what's wrong with you?"
Reluctantly, Richard lifted his head, his voice hoarse as he said, "Because only by holding you tighter do I feel that this is real, not just my imagination..."
Anran was momentarily stunned. What had gotten into him?
However, seeing the smile on his face and the look of pure enjoyment in his eyes, she finally realized something. Angrily, she exclaimed, "Richard! Did you never actually intend to drink my blood?"
Hearing this, Richard sighed inwardly. She had seen through him so quickly. Still, he kept his arms around her waist, unwilling to let go.