The woman did as he commanded, baring her neck for him. Draven watched the blood moving through her veins. He could almost hear it... Taste it... He breathed in the scent, not the woman's scent but the scent of the blood she was about to bleed out.
As Draven continued to watch and sniff her exposed neck, his fangs elongated to that of an extremely wild animal. He could feel the hunger building up inside him, as he struggled to resist the urge to feed. However, the temptation was too great, and without warning, he dug his fangs into her neck, not caring if she was ready or not.
Draven began to drink deeply, savoring the taste of her blood as it flowed into his mouth.
As he fed, different images began to flow into his mind, just as they had when he had bitten her palms. He saw glimpses of Helen's life, her triumphs, her failures, she loves, and her losses, and the different men she had slept with. He saw her at her best and her worst, and he relished the power he had over her.
