Page 43 of Barbi and the Villain

“Your blood. I require your blood.”

“Oh,” I whisper. Heat blooms across my cheeks as embarrassment overtakes me.

I clear my throat.

Okay, so maybe he’s a vampire. That would make sense. I’ve read about some vampiric species residing in Akkaya. Maybe he’s just one of them.

“It won’t kill me?” I ask, just in case.

I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this, but I do need to get out of here, and I kind of owe him too. A bit of blood won’t hurt me.

“No. I will not take enough to hurt you.”

“Okay. You can feed on me with one condition. You must help me get my PomPom back too,” I tell him. That is non-negotiable.

“Fine. I give you my word,” he murmurs against my skin. Somehow, his lips have gotten surprisingly close to my flesh.

Goose bumps spread all over my body.

He brushes his lips against my neck. Once, twice. The anticipation increases as my breathing grows shallow.

His mouth parts over my flesh to reveal sharp teeth that softly graze my skin.

I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the pain.

But even as his razor-sharp incisors penetrate my flesh, there’s only a dull hum that slowly blossoms into a warm sensation. His mouth is hot against me, his tongue lapping at my skin as he sucks in the blood flowing from the puncture wounds.

I hold tightly onto his shoulders to ground myself, and I can’t help but feel the way his muscles slowly inflate, his body seemingly growing larger with each passing moment, each drop of my blood.

I gasp as I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself from releasing an embarrassing moan as the heat from the puncture site continues to increase, traveling down my body and making me shamelessly rub myself against him.

Yet just as it starts, it’s over.

He pulls back, a few drops of blood glistening on his plump lips.

I lick my own in response.

Feeling for the puncture wounds, I realize they have already healed, the skin smooth as if nothing had happened.

“Thank you,” he inclines his head.

The color has returned to his cheeks. His complexion is no longer pale and sickly. There’s renewed vigor in his features. His skin is now a bronzed, healthy hue and his eyes a swirling silver where before they were just a dull gray. His body, too, is far larger than before, his muscles rippling with strength.

He moves one arm, then the other and the chains snap in two. He moves his neck forward, and that chain breaks as well.

One by one, he destroys every chain that was holding him in place. When he’s done, he pulls me in his arms as he stands up.

“We will get your PomPom now,” he decrees.

“Oh. Okay.” I nod dazedly.

With a snap of his finger, the door to the cell bursts open.

The moment we step into the hallway, tens of guards line up in the narrow corridor of the dungeon, their swords raised and ready to fight.

“Good Lord,” I mutter in shock. “We’re going to die.”

He doesn’t answer me, nor does he seem particularly impressed by the guards’ show of force.

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