"What? Are you crazy?" Prince Samir furrowed his brows. "You're in no state for me to drink from you!"
Nazmi looked at him with tired eyes. She laughed softly and whispered, "Since when did you care?"
The Prince frowned. He observed her with a rare, tender expression. "…I don't want to hurt you, you're an… integral part of my plan."
"So don't hurt me," Nazmi answered, "and bite gently. We don't have time, just do it… It won't be poison, I promise."
Samir gave in. His long white fangs extended, peeking from the sides of his mouth. He pressed his lips to her chilled, pale skin. Nazmi wasn't sure if she had just imagined it, but it felt as though he had placed a gentle kiss on her nape before he bit her. She didn't have the time, nor the mental clarity, to think too much about it, though… because immediately after the fleeting gentle sensation, a sharp pinch jolted her to her senses.
