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... wounds knitting themselves back together before his eyes.

She slowly lifted her face.

Her breathing was still ragged. Her eyes, redder than before, seemed sharper now. Less lost. More... hungry.

The pain was gone. The wounds were gone. But not the rage.

"You drugged me..." she whispered, lips still stained with traces of his blood. "With your own blood... it's a damn addictive drug."

"Ungrateful much? I'm the only one here who would give you blood, alrigh ...

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