CONTENT WARNING: This is not mature, but it is mildly suggestive. If that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip this chapter and read the author's note.

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The experience of being eaten was — to borrow a word from the King — singular.

The feeling was sharp, at first. Like the pinch of a pair of needles. Then, for just a moment, there was a profound hollowness — aching and pervasive — right down to his bones.

Until the heat began.

Pooling and low, it started in his hands, sweeping down, down, down — carrying with it an almost perverse pleasure. Rey was hardly aware of the soft murmurs and whimpers dripping from his lips, nearly inaudible over the roaring in his ears.

It was almost hypnotizing. Rey watched the color flush down his highness’ face, his waxy skin pinking further with every long drink. Not a drop was spilled, every morsel either sipped down with a heavy swallow or corralled with a long, circular swirl of his majesty’s tongue.

Before Rey could fully return to himself the King had risen back to his full height. His pupils were blown wide, nearly masking the flaring red and silver of his eyes. His Majesty’s full lips were just slightly ajar, propped open with his elongated fangs in an unsettling parody of surprise. 

Rey blinked, taking a few full breaths. “Erm…was that enough? I feel okay, you don’t need to stop.”

His Majesty paused, looking…confused. Some of his personality seemed to slowly return to him, now that he was full, and he offered a judgmental quirk of one dark brow. “It’s enough. We shouldn’t overtax your system. You truly don’t feel anything at all? No lingering fatigue?”

Rey scratched his neck with a nervous laugh. “Nope! Am I supposed to? How does this normally go for you?”

The King tilted his head, much like a curious predator might. Rey worked hard to calm his nerves at the sight. At the dark amusement in his expression. “Our saliva contains a mild sedative. Royals’ saliva tends to have a more concentrated effect. From first contact, it is common for our donors to fall into a trance-like state. You seem to have remained fully aware. Interesting.”

Rey flushed to the tips of his ears, quashing his uneasy laughter with a frown. “Oh, uh — that’s awkward. Sorry, it…it felt nice? I thought that’s how it was supposed to feel.”

“Nice?”

Rey pinned his eyes to the plush floor, curling his bare toes into the dark purple fibers. He still felt overheated. Almost…feverish. “I mean, it hurt at first, but then I was just warm? I don’t know how to describe it. It felt good.”

His highness hummed, unblinking and fixated on Rey’s face. “Coupled with your smell and taste, you are most unusual.”

“My…what? Do I smell bad?”

His majesty smirked. “No, quite the opposite. You have a profoundly alluring, unique scent. It is otherworldly. I have never encountered anything quite like it.”

Rey’s stomach lurched. Otherworldly? Coupled with his recent reincarnation, it felt oddly intimate. Like the King had stumbled upon his greatest secret without even meaning to. The only thing he had left in this utterly new world, unmoored and alone — his memories. 

Rey tried for a joke, to jostle them from this strangely intense interaction. “So I pass muster?” He gave an uneasy smile. “Can I stick around?”

His highness nodded, adjusting his ostentatious cape. “You are welcome here, as I said. I would not have selected you otherwise. I will return in a fortnight, until then, you are free to do as you please. You have an allowance of petty cash, so please feel free to go to town as well. You are not a prisoner here.”

“Of course…” their eyes collided, and his highness’ irises flashed that same unsettling silver. “You may not partake in a feeding with anyone else. Remember our agreement.”

“I won’t.”

His majesty turned on his heel, pausing momentarily at the entrance to Rey’s chambers.

“Sleep well, then, Rey.”