Writing sample

'Please... more... Please.'

Begging. It was the one thing that disgusted him the most. Slender fingers curled tighter into the waist of the woman pressed so lasciviously against him. He didn't mind the feel of a woman's body against hers, soft curves and gentle embraces - not that he didn't mind feeling a young boy pressed against his (secretly he liked the way a slender, lithe male form felt when he was pressing into him over and over) - but when he was interested in food he preferred to have his women docile. Not purring and like a cat in heat.

He drew the body ever closer to his own, grip strong as he bent her head even more to one side so he could sink his fangs deeper into . The moan that had been ready to spill from her lips turned into a gasp of pain as he bit down, teeth slicing through her jugular and ending her life in one simple action.

As he pulled away, blood dripping from the fingers that had held her head to the side, he let her almost lifeless body slide from his grip to the floor in an almost boneless pile. The scent of blood as the last remaining drops of life energy slipped from her body was alluring, but he'd already drunk his fill of the heady essence, and he watched with amusement coloring his usually dark hues as she choked out her desire to live.

Mortality always amused him. The thought flitted through his mind as he swiped his tongue across his bloody lower lip. He watched with amused mirth as she finally faded in one last strangled cry. She'd been brought to him by one of his children as a peace offering when he'd refused to let the boy's mother back into the castle. It had been a punishment, really, but for the better half of a week he'd kept the woman locked outside the doors, with little than the scant night dress she'd been wearing and a limited access to fresh blood.

Now, he supposed he should let the woman back in. She was important to him - if even only for the fact that she'd given him children and there was strength in her loyalty to him. In a way, he loved each of his three wives, and the children each had given him over the centuries, but it wasn't the love he wanted to feel for someone who would be his equal; perhaps not an equal in power (because who was there who could match his strength?), but an equal in mind and body and spirit. Even if he claimed he couldn't love, that he couldn't feel the stupid, weak human emotion, he wanted to love.

A noise of disgust spilled from his lips as he eyed the lifeless body of his meal once more before he turned away and tugged a silken rope just to the left of his bedroom door. In the far off recesses of the castle he heard a bell ring, and a few minutes later a servant was knocking on his door. Silently he let the male in, nodding once to the drained woman before he crossed to his dresser and washed his hands free of the dead woman's blood.

"And tell that woman that she may set foot within these walls," he murmured in a low voice, glancing back at the servant as he hefted the slender woman into his arms. "I do not wish to see her right now. But she may feed and return to her wing of the castle."

It was the door closing behind the servant with a 'yes sir, at once sir' that made him relax, and Yifan rolled his shoulders as the tension eased away from his body. Just a few more hours, and he could leave the castle to roam the city...