Shit. Shit, fuck. They killed him. They actually killed him right in front of me. I was there to save him. And now he's dead. I knew what had to be done. I promised him after all. I'd save him even if he died. But he couldn't be all the way dead. If he was it wouldn't work.

The executioner grabbed his body and flung it up over his shoulder. Asho flopped like a rag doll, my stomach felt queasy. Too much longer and he'd be dead for real. He was thrown back into his jail cell. This was all the viewing that a criminal got. Nobody cared about them anyway. They'd be back in thirty minutes to pick up the body and bury him.

I had to move quickly.

I got into the stall using my trusty lock picks and hastened to Asho's side. He was already starting to lose his warmth. His beautiful complexion now quite waxy and ashen. Shit, this better work.

I cradled him in my arms rocking him slightly and explaining to him what I was going to do. I knew there would be no reply, but I had always imagined doing this after gaining his permission. I leaned toward him, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. Damn, but he smelled good. I licked his skin once, lovingly before tentatively biting into his neck.

His blood was like nothing I had ever tasted before. It was amazing so sweet and pure. I could practically taste the royalty in his blood. Real blueblood. I continued to suck until he was almost devoid of blood. Then I hastily used one of my fangs to cut my wrist open. He had to drink mine too for this to work.

I placed my wrist at his lips and moved them aside with my other hand. The blood needed to go down his throat, and I'd make sure that happened. I watched for some sign of life as my blood poured down his throat. Occasionally, when his mouth was full, I'd help him swallow, but no matter how much blood I gave he didn't wake up. I willed him to live, begged him. He lay there unmoving and oblivious to my strife. I stopped shortly before I would have passed out.

Dammit, I was too late. He was dead. really dead. This wasn't how this was supposed to work. He wasn't even supposed to be hanged. But Asho couldn't be dead. We were supposed to have a future together. Take care of Sareh together. And now he was gone and I was alone.

Nobody went to the funeral, not even his fucking master. I watched from afar as his plain coffin was lowered into the ground in front of a headstone with his name on it. Asho Paria, too damn young, too damn beautiful to die. Dawn was approaching, I had to retire for the day but I vowed to stay by his grave the next night and mourn my loss.