Bathed in the soft, silvery light of the full moon, Freya seemed to shimmer, her pale skin taking on an almost ethereal luminescence. The darkness of the night only served to accentuate the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the aristocratic line of her jaw. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders like a silken shadow, catching the moonlight in subtle, shimmering strands. Her crimson eyes, usually so intense, held a softer, almost contemptive glow, reflecting the celestial orb above. They seemed ancient and knowing, filled with the wisdom and the sorrow of centuries, yet tonight, there was also a serene tranquility within their depths.
The cool night air seemed to dance around her, making the dark fabric of her shawl ripple like liquid night. Even in her simple attire, she possessed an undeniable aura of power and grace, a timeless beauty that transcended mortal standards. Myra found herself utterly captivated, her heart inexplicably quickening its pace. The sight of Freya under the moonlight was breathtaking, a living embodiment of the night's enchanting allure.
Moving closer, drawn by an almost magnetic pull, Myra’s gaze remained fixed on Freya’s mesmerizing features. “Thank you,” she whispered, the word carrying a weight of gratitude that extended beyond just the successful gathering of the herbs. It was a thank you for her knowledge, her guidance, her willingness to help, and perhaps, for revealing this unexpected glimpse of her true self under the moonlit sky.
Then, in a gesture both impulsive and strangely inevitable, Myra gently tilted her head, her fingers tracing the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear. She offered the vulnerable curve of her throat to Freya, her emerald eyes locking with the crimson ones. “Freya,” she said, her voice barely above a breath, “if you… if you need it… please. Drink my blood.” The offer hung in the cool night air, a potent mix of vulnerability, trust, and a lingering echo of the strange sensations from the night before. The beauty of the night and the captivating presence of the ancient vampire had stirred something profound within her.
A subtle tremor ran through Freya at Myra’s unexpected offering, her crimson eyes widening almost imperceptibly. For a fleeting moment, the primal instinct, the ingrained hunger that had surged so powerfully the night before, flickered within her gaze. But it was quickly suppressed, repced by a different kind of intensity.
“Myra,” Freya said, her voice low and firm, gently but deliberately tilting Myra’s head back down. “You should not offer such a thing. Not so freely.” Her fingers lingered on Myra’s neck for a moment, a cool touch that sent a shiver down the younger woman’s spine, but there was no hint of predation in her touch now.
She drew her hand away, her gaze searching Myra’s eyes with a sincerity that was disarming. “Myra… when I saw your distress, your worry for your grandmother, I knew I had to help. I deciphered the book, because it was the right thing to do. Your desperation resonated with a… memory, a sense of helplessness I recall from a time long past.”
Freya’s expression softened further, a hint of sadness tinging her ancient features. “And when you looked so pained earlier, realizing my inability to walk freely in the sun… it reminded me of the limitations I live with. It reinforced my desire to assist you in any way I can, within those constraints.” Her words were a genuine expression of empathy, a desire to alleviate Myra’s suffering without seeking any personal gain. “This time, Myra, there is no need for an exchange. I simply want to help you, and your grandmother.”
The urge to reassure Myra, to dispel any lingering unease or misunderstanding, rose within her. Taking a gentle step closer, Freya cupped Myra's cheek, her touch feather-light despite its coolness. Her crimson gaze, now filled with a genuine warmth that belied her vampiric nature, met Myra's emerald eyes. "It is alright, Myra," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm in the stillness of the night. "Truly. Your generosity... it is deeply appreciated. But helping you, guiding you, it was my choice.
Seeing your grandmother well, that will be reward enough." A soft smile touched her lips, a rare and genuine expression that softened the sharp lines of her face. "Please, do not feel indebted to me in such a way. Our shared purpose tonight has created something... more. Let us leave it at that, a bond of trust and shared experience under this beautiful moon."
