Caerus lies beneath her, his expression a wall of cold marble. His collarbone is a map of bite marks and damp skin, the black silk of his robe shredded in her grip. Yulia stares at the pulse in his neck and swallows hard.

"Want blood?" Caerus asks. His voice still vibrates with authority from the dirt. Yulia nods, her pupils blown wide, instinct stripping away her speech.

Caerus reaches up and strokes her hair, his touch heavy. "Swear it," he murmurs, his voice a low, rhythmic pull. "No more cheap lies. Your honor, your soul, every scrap of your love... give it to me."

Yulia collapses into his chest like a broken bird. "I swear. I'm yours."

Her fangs sink into the pale skin of his shoulder. Divine power hits her veins like liquid fire. Her toes curl into the dirt as her body shudders under the weight of his blood.

Caerus keeps his hand on the back of her head, pinning her there. "Slow down," he rasps. "You'll break."

He eventually hauls her back, his fingers digging into her arms. Yulia lunges, snapping at the air, her eyes fixed on the red smear on his neck. She wants more.

Ollie flutters down, his crimson feathers ruffling in the moonlight. "I tagged him! Stuck a feather on his back!"

Yulia's head snaps toward the bird. She lunges, teeth sinking into Ollie's leg. A shrill, panicked shriek rips through the forest.

"Lilly! Stop!" Ollie dives behind Caerus, his tiny bird eyes watering.

Caerus hooks an arm around Yulia's waist and plucks a crimson feather from between her teeth. "Stop eating the scenery."

"What's wrong with her?" Ollie whispers, peeking from the shadows.

"Blood drunk," Caerus says, his gaze tracking the feverish flush on Yulia's cheeks. "Too much power for a human heart."

Yulia's head lolls against his shoulder as she drifts out. Caerus doesn't shift into the dragon. He carries her like a child, his hand supporting her weight.

He grabs Ollie by the foot with his free hand. "Fly."

The phoenix lets out a muffled squawk. He's built for divine weight, but he's spent a century eating and pecking at Jojo. By the time they hit the Temple of Abyss, Ollie craters into the grass by Jojo's boots.

Jojo stares at the heap of feathers and the limp girl in Caerus's arms. "Highness? What happened?"

He reaches out to take her. Yulia's eyes snap open, and she latches onto Jojo's forearm with a sharp snap.

"Let go," Caerus says, yanking her jaw back. "Are you a dog now?"

Menningen's jawbone clicks [Dialogue History]. "The Progenitor bit her. She's... half-turned."

Jojo turns ashen, backing toward the stone wall. "Am I a vampire now?"

"Adela is the only one who can do that," Menningen rasps. "It's a long process."

Caerus offers a thin, lethal smile. "Though if she likes the taste, you can be her blood slave for a week."

Jojo scrambles behind the knight's silver armor. Caerus doesn't wait for the protest. He carries Yulia toward the steam of the north springs.

He leaves to find a clean gown. When he returns, Yulia is already in the milky water, her shredded dress abandoned on the marble.

She floats with her chin just above the surface, blowing bubbles like a goldfish. Her face is a deep, feverish red.

Caerus kneels by the edge and rests a hand on her wet hair. "I've never given this much blood to anyone."

Yulia's eyes track his movement. She lunges upward, her teeth sinking into his index finger.

"Still hungry?" Caerus asks, his voice dropping an octave as he watches her. "Greedy little girl."

Gods grant favors, but they despise greed. Unless that greed belongs to Yulia Farislan.

Sharp fangs sink into a pale fingertip. A soft tongue grazes the wound, savoring the copper tang of divine blood.

Caerus flinches, his usual mask of cold indifference shattering for a heartbeat.

Yulia lets go, diving into the milky depths of the spring like a golden fish. She blows bubbles, swimming in drunken, happy circles.

A single bead of blood pearls on Caerus's finger. He watches the red drop, the small puncture wound remaining unhealed by his choice.

"Yulia. Come here."

She paddles over, licks the wound again, and drifts away into the steam.

Caerus rubs his thumb against his forefinger, his golden slit eyes narrowing. No one else gets a taste.

Later, a frantic knock rattles the bedroom door. Giotto stands in the hallway, his knees knocking together as he faces the dragon-god.

"My Lord... if the Princess needs more... take mine." The boy offers his throat, his pulse thudding visibly against his skin.

Caerus's jaw tightens. "Get out."

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Sunlight hits the floor, and Yulia bolts upright. The memories hit her like a physical blow—the pinning, the biting, and the bubble-blowing in the spring.

She drags herself to the mirror and bares her teeth. Two sharp, translucent points glint against her rose-red lips.

Molly sets a tray of freshly baked bread and jam on the table. "Princess? Are you still unwell?"

Yulia tears off a piece of bread and chews. It tastes like dry sawdust and cardboard.

Her taste buds have shifted overnight, craving something richer, something sweeter. She finds herself standing before Caerus before she can even think.

The dragon-god turns, his golden eyes scanning her face. "Awake? Let me see the mouth."

He pries her jaw open with a cold hand, inspecting the fangs. The mark of the Progenitor still lingers in her veins.

"Is there a cure?" Yulia asks, her voice hollow.

"If there isn't?"

Yulia stares at him, her sapphire eyes wide with genuine horror. "If I can't taste fried chicken or stir-fry, just kill me now. Right here."

Caerus lets out a short, dry snort. "Is your head full of nothing but food?"

"Food is the only thing that matters." Yulia adjusts her sand-gold hair. "What happened to Adela?"

"He fled toward the Great Academies." Caerus looks toward the horizon. "He left his princes behind."

Yulia follows his gaze. The vampire princes hang from the temple spires, their bodies charring and smoking under the brutal morning sun.

"You drank my blood," Caerus adds, his tone flat. "You'll be human by sunset."

Yulia exhales, the weight lifting from her chest until she remembers the "Master of All" conversation. "The things you said to Adela... about the Origin? Was it true?" 

Caerus leans against the window frame. "Every word."

"The Dark God's body... the Light God's soul?"

"Yes." Caerus turns to her, his shadow swallowing her whole. "What of it?"

Yulia bites her lip, thinking of the game developers she'd like to strangle for omitting this detail.

"I have seeds to plant," Yulia mutters, turning to leave. "I need to find Lord Felix and start the harvest."

"Come back here."

Caerus hooks a hand around the back of her neck, hauling her back until she's trapped against his chest.

"You think those are the things I'm talking about?" He leans down, his face inches from hers.