BLOOD LEGACIES
Chapter 395: Avarice

Chapter 395: Avarice

For some reason, I was more occupied in my head than the papers on my desk waiting for me. Each time I picked up my pen to sign some documents my mind kept drifting to Singe words.

I have never thought about what it feels like to have a female, to have someone bear your mark. Werelions although territorial we cherish females born with our mark like nature itself, it was considered a blessing and fate. And also an old meaning that the gods haven’t abandoned us.

Maybe the gods abandon me... I have passed the age to find my female and it means no one was ever born with my mark, I have never put much thought into it until now, and it kept me craving for something at the back of my head, to have someone, to possess, someone made for you and no one else.

It’s a crazy thought if you ask me because I don’t ever see myself getting consumed by a female or affections... My mind is a dark space and my constant bloodlust is a far cry from ever wanting normal. My father didn’t just rewrite my DNA with his tricks, he changed me and I became someone, someone entirely different. The past five years have been a battle with my inner desires. A typical rogue has a certain range of bloodlust and a less human side.

I have seen Singe eat uncooked meat many times without bothering to boil the damn thing, even though he knew that shouldn’t be the right act, it’s like a call to nature to him, to sync with that animalistic part of him, what he once was... roaming the wild without a touch of humanity. That was a normal Rogue... but me? My cravings are far too dangerous.

My bloodlust is unhinged.

My aura is suffocating and deadly if I let it out too much.

My sexual desires are an abominable torment that not even having countless She-lions can quench.

And my instincts are far too animalistic than normal.

My hunger is insatiable.

I have lived with this new side of me for five years and it has become a second skin, my torment, and every extension of a project. But I never thought about what it meant to have a female.... Someone who would accept what you’re and not use you as a means of greed or power, just a natural instinct to care for someone without wanting anything in return. To have someone bear your soul, and spend forever with them.

Love is a weakness and a sickness that gets under your skin even if you don’t want it to... my walls are high to the point I no longer see the light. Nothing appeals to me without being insatiable and I trigger it to hunt. Yet why do I picture green eyes?

I leaned against my chair and stared at the white ceiling, even when I closed my eyes I saw them, taunting me and pulling me like a spell. I knew very well who those green eyes belonged to and I refused to be sunk in because when that happens, I will snap and do something irresponsible of an alpha.

I have control... but I feel like a teenage boy who doesn’t know what it means to have one.

Is she using some sort of magic on me? To break into my head and invade me with that fucking gorgeous eyes of hers? I doubt that because my bite will stop any strong magic. Then am I the one getting jinx myself? I want to laugh because I feel crazy.

Vampires are nothing but bloodsuckers, cunning, wicked, and egoistic bastards, especially Luther Zalatoris, and yet this girl is far from what she should be, she’s more human than a vampire, I have never even seen her fucking fangs.

Does she even have them?

The mere thought of fangs dropping down on her plump pink lips gets my cock suffocating in my pants. I’m having a painful hard-on picturing her with fangs.

I’m losing my goddamn mind.

And yet the picture is enough to make me explode, I didn’t even realize I had already meddled with my belt and unzipped my pants.

Don’t do it.

A voice at the back of my head, maybe my pride telling me not to go down on myself picturing a vampire I despise. I tried to think of Isabella instead, she’s my soon-to-be fiancee, after all, and having her in my dirty thoughts isn’t guilt pleasure.

But my cock got soft, nothing... absolutely nothing was appealing thinking about Isabella, but the moment I closed my eyes and green eyes haunted me, I’m rock hard again.

"Fuck!"

My hand went up and down my hard shaft, the pressure sending shivers down my body, and the blood rising to my cock painful until I felt like I would detonate.

What is it about her?

The moment I set my eyes on her... stepping out of the darkness and her full attention on the moonlight as it shone on her skin, she looked like a goddamn angel ready for judgment, her silky short nightwear stopping at her thighs, her slender legs, her nipples peeking, round, and firm, it made me wonder how it would feel to wrap my hands around them, bite and suck.

I stroked my cock harder as bliss took me, grunts leaking from me as I stroked my shaft.

All these mental images about her increased whatever took hold of me. I’m losing my fucking mind! And that very minute I let it in, I let myself get drunk in her eyes, imagining myself stroking her soft skin and doing something sinfully forbidden... sliding my cock into her drenched pussy.

"Fuuuck!" I came hard, harder than I ever had, catching my cum with my hands and plunging down on my seat trying to settle my breathing, the euphoria sliding off and the realization striking me.

I’m fucking losing my mind.

It doesn’t matter how many times I said it... I know I’m screwed... because this image doesn’t do me justice.

And I’m hard again.