Blood-Drunk

"Sweetheart, slow down, would you?"

Moonlight streamed through the mists, the crack of snapping twigs and rustling of brush echoing through the air, a leap and staggered breaths for a brief moment before the beat of footsteps returned to an equal pace, until the final moments, where the crash of leaves and a shrill shriek slid into the air.

He had caught her. Finally. The running had been rough on him, and scratches oozed blood and his breath came heavily, rough, but not nearly as fast and strained as hers.
Her struggle lasted mere seconds, seconds before he had her pinned down, sweat and blood mixing as he examined his catch.
Young, yes, but capable of safely yielding enough for him to thrive...
He wasn't hungry enough to drain her... Not yet.
He would have been, had his hunt lasted another few days...

He looked away from her terrified face, a face that clearly showed what she /thought/ was about to happen... Which wasn't.
His thumb caressed her wrist, seeking, his pupils widening with hunger as his sharp nail caught, and the smell of fresh blood filled the air, untainted by dirt, untainted by sweat...
His other hand pressed against her chest, keeping her pinned while he brought her wrist forward, cradling it to his lips as he let the sweet, sweet serenade of blood drip down his throat, all before he sunk his teeth deep, letting the serenade cascade, drowning him as her feeble cries for help became naught but a mere distraction. Fading away, and further away...

Until he was lost in the bliss of it all, the mess and glorious flavor...
Until her cries quieted, and the blood flow slower, stemmed, drying...
He withdrew, letting her hand fall as he stood, licking his lips and fingers clean, his fine dress now ruined, no longer good for formalities...
But no one would see him come back, alongside change...
Neither would they notice the absence of this fair young lady, whom he'd seduced and led away, away into the forest.
Carrying her now was the easiest part, her limp form almost weightless in his strengthened form, the run back to the palace so simple, just... A breeze in the wind.
And climbing the walls, to his guest room balcony...
Well.
That was simply... Cake.

It was where he took care to bandage her wound well, alongside slip into clean garments, washing himself clean of the remainder of the blood, his desire sated easily for now.
In a few days time, perhaps not as much, but... He'd had enough to sustain himself as he was now.

Slipping her back into her room was easy enough, and sleep came easily once he returned to his resting place, the stupor clouding his mind, the effects slipping deep into his limbs, blood-drunk.