Jamal smiled and he lifted a finger. His sharp nails nicked the skin of his neck, reddish gold blood spilling from the wound, filling the entire room with the powerful scent of Aether.
Xaloc was a god and had spent thirty years in the Depths of the Gloom. He had ingested Aether that was far more powerful, far more pure that the one that was feeling the room. But no one had captivated him like the one that was currently filling the room, it was so intoxicating, probably because it was from Jamal, something so internal to him, maybe that's why Xaloc wanted it this much.
He closed his eyes for a second to centre himself before he laughed, "Jamal please heal yourself, I am not a fictional mortal vampire."
Jamal looked at the cut but he did not heal it, "So it does not work like that?"
"Yes."
"Liar!" Jamal cautioned fondly before lowering his voice, "Your eyes are filled with desire, If it is not for my blood, then what is it for?"
