In the starry sky, the moon was red like blood. At the window, the moonlight reflected in his eyes, Raizel struggled against temptation. His fingers were clutching at the window frame, his nails sinking into the wood, but it was impossible to calm that burning desire. His scent was light and delicious, a mixture of bitterness and sweetness. He was alive, his heart was beating, blood was flowing through his veins. Finally, for so many years to remain alone, Raizel had, very close to him, a living being. A being from whom he could drink, plunges his nose into that neck where blood was pulsating and biting to quench his thirst.

Another wave of need passed, shaking his whole body, and he closed his eyes panting. The temptation was too strong. Raizel left the window slowly despite his wits screaming for him to stop before it was too late. But before he could think, he had already crossed the corridors, and entered the bedroom.

Frankenstein was lying on his bed, the red light of the sky lighting up his pale face. His posture was relaxed, his eyes closed and his blond hair lay on the pillow around his head slightly tilted backwards. His throat was completely exposed, like an invitation. And so Raizel shuddered. Frankenstein, the most powerful human, the man who had seen death in the face, was within reach, vulnerable, defenseless. At his mercy. If he attacked now and imposed on him the control of the mind, he would be in his power... He would be all his, free to taste his blood so attractive scent.

This thought was dangerous. Suddenly, Frankenstein woke up and straightened up in bed, looking confused.

''Master? Do you need anything?''

''Yes.''

Frankenstein opened his lips again, no doubt to find out what, but Raizel reacted faster and ran his hand through the air, a red light brighting up his eyes.

''Sleep.''

Frankenstein's eyes closed as if his eyelids were heavy and he collapsed onto the bed, his limbs limp as those of a wireless puppet. Raizel felt a vague sense of horror in his heart, but thirst was stronger and took over his body. Each of the light breathes Frankenstein took, were like a powerful perfume spreading through the air, had made his need even more untenable.

Raizel sat on the bed with a feline grace, gently brushing the man's cheek. He felt the blood vibrating under his skin, responding to his touch. No matter how much hatred he had been subjected to, no matter how much his spirit had been poisoned by the cries of the Dark Spear, Frankenstein was pure. He was the most disinterested human he had ever met, with unwavering determination and a good heart despite all the suffering he had endured.

Raizel leaned forward, and the scarlet light of the moon seemed to shine more. He lifted Frankenstein with one arm and the golden cascades of his hair fluttered, spreading a sweet smell. He choked on his saliva, the thirst being pushed to a paroxysm that he had never reached in his life, and sank his canines on the neck of the man. The taste of blood flooded his mouth, a refreshing and insatiable nectar, better than anything he had drunk before. He had taken some of Frankenstein's blood at the time of the contract, but it was then mixed with tea; not in its pure and true state. It was, moreover, this foretaste which was at the origin of the desire which he finally satisfied.

Suddenly, he felt a hand brush slowly around his forearm and jolted. Frankenstein, his eyes half-closed, looked at him with a shadow of panic that disappeared as soon as he met his crimson eyes.

Then shame came to drown Raizel on its flood. What had he done? He had defiled that pure and beautiful being who had agreed to bond with him, to live by his side, he had abused him... He felt like a criminal, no, worse. And still the thirst was still there, atrocious, devouring...

"Master..." Frankenstein murmured, closing his eyes. Raizel closed his, expecting a terrible judgment. He would tell him that he wanted to break the contract and leave him, as everyone else had done before him.

''Stay... I order you to stay.''

These words seemed derisory, desperate. How could he hope to deprive a free and strong man like Frankenstein of his will? It was unfeasible, it would destroy it. Using mental control over him, just to get what he wanted, was already unforgivable. He did not want the man to hate him. He wanted nothing but his love... and his blood. Ashamed and dirty as he felt for this thought.

As Frankenstein said nothing, Raizel ventured to open his eyes, afraid to see the disappointment and betrayal on his face. He froze. Frankenstein presented his neck, letting his head rest against his master's hand.

"Keep going, master. Take what you need. I offer it to you, and all the rest of me."

Raizel trembled, unable to believe it. He received a caress in place of the slap he deserved. Diamonds tears sparkled in his eyes as he realized that Frankenstein was not going to leave. He licked clean some blood beads from his neck, his lips quivering.

Outside, the moon slowly picked up its pale color, and Frankenstein smiled softly in the dim light.

"Are you better, master?"

Raizel nodded, emotion preventing him from speaking. He closed the wound on the man's neck with a touch of his finger, and as his dearest thanks, brushed his hand over his forehead.

"Sleep in peace, dearest."

This story is inspired by a fanart of myaire21, who also had the kindness to re-read and correct also to foggywizzard for the help. This magnificent fanart can be found here:

post/179661443539/myaire21-au-in-which-noblesse-nobles-are-actual