Iktome Plains And when the crimson moon comes up, he drinks the blood of slaves

Just as he thought, the boy's heart began to pound as his fangs sunk into his flesh, pushing more of the red nectar into his mouth, adding to his ecstatic bliss as he devoured his life's essence. Above him, the boy shifted this way and that, in some feeble futile attempt to get away from him. Athan chuckled as he swallowed another spurt of the red liquid, lapping over the wound. I said you were fortunate, prada mea supus​, didn't I? He licked over the wound again, watching his red-tinged saliva spread across his fur. I could be biting at your throat.

His head moved to the opposite leg, not wasting time now that the boy knew of his intentions. He cut at his thigh, releasing another spurt of blood.