3.2

Examining the marks, Helena clicked her tongue lightly. They were the wounds she had left when she fed on him the previous night. Normally, such marks would heal quickly, but due to her weakened state, they hadn’t closed properly and had left scars.  

“It’s from a bat mosquito. Their proboscis is thicker than that of other mosquitoes, so the bite marks remain. But don’t worry; they’re not venomous. It’s not a common species, so it’s understandable that Doctor Charles didn’t recognize it.”  

Charles, the doctor from the neighboring village, was also a professor who had taught medicine in the Capital, but it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know about the bat mosquito. After all, it was a creature Helena herself had fabricated a hundred years ago to hide her bite marks, publishing the information in a medical journal. The bat mosquito had never existed in reality and was likely the only insect to survive solely in the realm of academia.  

“Oh! I see. What a relief. For a moment, I feared it might have been a venomous snake bite.”  

“If it were a venomous snake, Bill, you’d have been found dead this morning.”  

At her chilling joke, the man pretended to be startled but quickly turned it into a playful flirtation.  

“My goodness! Then it seems you’ve saved me from my needless worries, Dr. As thanks, I’d like to treat you to dinner this evening.”  

Isaac, who had been standing stiffly between them like a rock, his discomfort evident the entire time, furrowed his brow even more at the man’s suggestion.  

Noticing Isaac’s reaction, Helena offered the tasteless prey a picturesque smile and politely declined his offer.  

“I’m sorry. So many kind people have invited me that my evenings are fully booked for the next month.”  

It wasn’t a lie. The villagers had been taking turns preparing meals for her. Though she couldn’t taste the food or gain any nourishment from it, Helena couldn’t bring herself to reject their kind gestures.  

Despite her tactful refusal, the man seemed unwilling to give up and reignited his determination.  

“Even a month from now is fine! I’ll wait!”  

As the man’s persistence grew, Isaac opened his mouth to intervene, but Helena’s cold voice came out first.  

“A month from now, I’ll be gone. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to dine with you, Bill.”  

Her firm rejection finally made the man give up, and he trudged out of the treatment room, dejected.  

But it wasn’t just the man who was surprised by Helena’s sudden announcement. Isaac’s pale green eyes widened as he looked at her, but Helena, as if it were no big deal, began tidying up the treatment room.  

He followed her movements with his gaze and cautiously spoke.  

“You’re leaving… in a month?”  

“Yes. That’s the timeline I originally gave the Village Chief.”  

The deadline for the bet she had made with Dennis was truly approaching.  

“…Is there no way you could stay longer?”  

“I don’t see any reason for me to stay, do you?”  

Having lost the bet, she couldn’t find her uncle’s whereabouts, nor could she marry Dennis. To shake Isaac’s faith, she needed to take bolder actions.  

“If… if a reason were to arise, would you stay?”  

The scent of his body, even more alluring than before, brought a curve to Helena’s lips.  

“Well, who knows? Oh, Isaac. You mentioned preparing for evening prayers yesterday, didn’t you? Are you planning to rest early today?”  

“…Yes, I am.”  

His voice, sounding drained of energy, carried the aroma of ripe fruit to her senses.  

‘Ah, I can’t resist.’  

Perhaps because she had fed on unsatisfying blood the night before, the scent of his fragrant blood was even more tempting. Helena licked her lips.  

In the end, she decided to visit Isaac again tonight. She would seduce him with her body and drink his delicious blood. It was a small risk, but she could kill two birds with one stone.  

The thought that she might grow addicted to the taste of his blood was a concern she decided to set aside for now.  

The night when the once-bright moon began to wane, Helena silently concealed herself in the shadows of the chapel. After confirming there were no signs of movement, she looked up at the second-floor room where Isaac’s scent flowed from.  

The window, left open to combat the lingering summer heat, was her target. With a light leap, she slipped inside and slowly approached Isaac, who was sound asleep.  

Helena couldn’t hide her delight at how much stronger his scent had become since her first visit. Fearing it might escape, she carefully locked both the window and the door, then began filling the room with her pheromones.  

“Isaac.”  

“Helena…?”  

At her call, Isaac, intoxicated by the pheromone-laden air, gazed at her with dazed eyes. Helena looked at him with satisfaction.  

Once the concentration of pheromones in the room reached an adequate level, she stopped releasing them. She lacked the strength to intensify it further, as the amount of blood she had consumed yesterday had been insufficient. Moreover, she couldn’t let him lose his mind entirely like the man from the neighboring village. He needed to remember tonight’s events so that he would become more aware of her.  

She needed a vivid memory of their bodies intertwined, masked under the excuse of a dream.  

“Ugh…”  

Isaac, fighting the hazy force pressing down on him, managed to lift his upper body but couldn’t get off the bed. Instead, Helena sat on the edge of the bed, closing the distance between them.  

He blinked repeatedly, trying to distinguish dream from reality, then reached up to pinch his cheek. To stop him, Helena intertwined her delicate hands with his large, calloused ones.  

“Hold me. Just like last time.”  

Using the power of the pheromones, Helena implanted a small suggestion, but Isaac slowly shook his head in refusal.  

“I… can’t… do that… any longer.”  

Earlier that day, he hadn’t avoided her touch, so she thought it would be easier this time. Yet the devout priest averted his gaze.  

In the end, Helena squeezed out the last remnants of her strength and released more pheromones. She figured that drinking his blood would restore her depleted energy, and this amount wouldn’t completely overwhelm his mind.  

“Isaac. You want me, don’t you?”  

Wrapping her arms around his unresisting neck, she pressed her lips against his. Lips that seemed unwilling to part slowly opened, and their tongues intertwined.  

The firm arms of the man encircled her slender waist, pulling her tightly against him. At the same time, his soft tongue delved deeply into her mouth.  

As they explored each other’s breath, their lips eventually parted after a long, lingering exchange, now glistening with saliva.  

“Tonight as well… it must be a dream, right?”  

Isaac murmured softly, resting his forehead against her delicate shoulder. His question seemed to seek a predetermined answer, and Helena, her neat brown hair now disheveled, whispered the words he wanted to hear.  

“It’s alright. It’s just a dream.”  

Perhaps her reply ignited something in him, as Isaac pressed her down onto the bed. His pale green eyes now brimmed with fleeting desire, and Helena welcomed it.  

It was only a matter of time now.  

Time was running out, as was the distance between his heart and hers.  

Helena, hoping his love would reach her before time slipped away, untied the ribbons of her chemise. Her white, voluptuous chest and pink peaks were exposed to Isaac’s gaze, filled with yearning.  

“Haa…”  

He exhaled heated breaths, but unlike before, he didn’t start by exploring her chest. Instead, he pressed his lips to her pale, delicate neck, biting and sucking at the tender flesh to leave deep marks.  

It was a possessiveness he hadn’t felt in a long time. As a priest, he had never allowed himself to desire or claim anything as his own. This was different from how he felt when other children approached Ippolita. Back then, it was simple longing for affection, but now… When he imagined her in another man’s arms, becoming his wife, rage boiled within him.  

Jealousy, possessiveness, and lust toward her sharpened Isaac’s focus. Yet, he desperately wanted to believe this was all just a dream.  

“Helena… Helena…”  

Isaac continued to call her name as he nuzzled her neck. The breathy voice of the woman teased his ears.  

“Haa, Isaac.”  

Only after leaving her neck mottled with marks did Isaac finally move his hand to her chest. The soft, ample flesh in his grasp felt just as supple as it had in the dream a few nights ago.  

“Mmnh.”  

For the first time, Helena felt a sense of impatience. Most of her prey focused on their own excitement, leaving her pleasure as an afterthought.  

‘As expected… he’s a natural.’  

There had been no one to teach this pure priest about corruption, so his instinctive touch was all the more thrilling. His lips traced her collarbone, his fingers teased her sensitive peaks, and his hands kneaded her br*asts with a skill that could set a woman’s body aflame.  

“Ahh…”  

Heat pooled in her lower abdomen as Helena arched her back. The muslin sheets beneath her grew damp, darkening in color. Isaac’s lips gradually trailed downward, settling over the hardened peak of her chest.  

Squelch.

The sound of her sensitive n*pple being sucked by his moist lips echoed lewdly through the room. Soon, he took her entire br*ast into his mouth, as if biting into ripe fruit. The teasing of her peak inside his hot mouth began to drive her to the edge.