Blood Awakening: The Strongest Hybrid and His Vampire Bride-Chapter 378: A Maid’s Desire, A Lord’s Hand

Leona's breath hitched—just once—before she forced it down, snarling low as the man groaned beneath her. His face was half-buried in the soil, blood spreading like a black stain beneath the moonlight. She had driven him down with everything her legs could give, and the ground cracked from the impact.

She didn't just break his nose... but had caved it inward like a stomped peach. His front teeth scattered like crushed ice, pink and red from where they'd snapped in half against the stone.

She grabbed the back of his collar and lifted his head. Not gently.

"You thought you could sneak out?" she growled.

The spy wheezed, but nothing came out. His eyes were unfocused. Maybe he hadn't even realised the damage done to his face yet... it looked horrible.

That was when the footsteps came—first one, then a dozen more.

A pack of guards surrounded them from every direction. Two were already unsheathing their weapons before a deeper voice cut across them all.

"Stand down," Nikolai ordered.

The sound of metal paused.

He stepped into the ring of torchlight with calm, cold eyes—water dripped from his hair after training with an unbuttoned shirt and clinging to his chest.

Leona gazed at him while crouched, her nose snorting a puff of hot air, muscles still tense like an animal on the edge.

Their eyes met.

Nikolai said nothing, but he stared longer than he probably should've. Not at the spy.

At her.

At the dirt-streaked, half-ripped uniform clinging to her lean muscles. Her thighs pressed tight together, her abs defined and glistening from sweat. One strap of her top had torn loose—just enough to show the curve of her shoulder, the hint of chest.

Her golden-brown tail twitched behind her as she stood.

And she saw it.

That look in his eyes.

A gaze like a male wolf sizing up a female in heat—not a joke, not lust, but something more primal. Approval. Hunger. A kind of possession that made her ears burn.

Her throat tightened.

"He's alive," she said quickly, voice sharp, trying to ground herself.

A guard approached and knelt beside the man.

"Alive, but… fuck. His nose is gone. Like… inverted."

"Front teeth too," another muttered. "Might not even be able to speak until a mage resets his jaw."

Leona stood taller. Straightened her torn clothes, ignoring the soft rip where the fabric refused to cooperate.

Nikolai walked closer, eyes still on her.

"You followed him alone?" he asked.

She nodded once.

He didn't smile.

Nor did he scold Leona.

Just stepped beside her and looked down at the broken man at her feet.

"Take him to the cells," he said. "Strip him. Interrogate him. Quietly."

The guards nodded and hauled the spy up. Blood dripped down his shirt, staining the cobblestone.

Only then did Nikolai turn back to her.

"You're injured..."

"No," she answered. "Just... torn fabric."

He stepped closer.

His fingers brushed against her waist, light, testing the bruises that hadn't even begun to show. Her breath caught again.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not in the mood to carry anyone."

Then he turned away—but just as he passed her, she heard his voice again.

"…But you moved well."

It wasn't praise. Not exactly.

It was recognition.

Acknowledgement.

And for Leona, who had spent her whole life proving herself, nothing made her happier than that.

She hesitated for barely a second before her legs moved again.

Leona darted after him, keeping her distance, but not too far. Although she didn't want to seem too eager, her body moved before she realised. Now, almost chasing him like a spy, even if it was improper, she was happy.

Her nose twitched, sniffing the air twice.

The air behind Nikolai was still warm, damp with his scent—sweat from training, the rush of exertion. And something else. Something she couldn't describe but felt all the way down her back.

She inhaled again.

'He ran to me...'

He hadn't just wandered here but come straight to the source of the noise, to her.

The thought made her chest tighten.

She turned the corner too fast.

Her foot slipped.

Her heel clipped the stone floor, and she stumbled forward, arms thrown out to brace herself—

A hand caught her waist.

"Careful."

Nikolai's voice was low, almost amused.

She froze as he pulled her upright with ease. Not like a soldier recovering a clumsy subordinate. No. It was gentler than that.

"What am I going to do with you…" He sighed.

Before Leona could register his question, Nikolai scooped her into his arms. Effortless. Like she weighed nothing.

Leona choked on her breath. "W-Wait—!"

But his grip was firm.

One hand under Leona's knees.

The other...

She gasped softly.

It was sinking—slowly, almost deliberately—into the underside of her thigh. No. Lower.

Her cheeks lit up like fire as his fingers brushed the underside of her buttocks. Not lewdly. Not aggressively, but they didn't stop.

Her tail flicked wildly behind her, and the usual strict and serious maid persona shattered into pieces as his hand sank into her flesh, squeezing her peach.

"Y-You're touching...!"

His brow lifted. "You're the one who jumped after me with your top half falling apart."

"I didn't jump—"

"And you stink of heat," he added calmly. "You should wash."

Leona gasped.

This was the first time her master joked and spoke to her in such a flirtatious and direct manner... it caught her off guard.

She wanted to argue.

She wanted to scream.

But found herself swooning with both thighs rubbing together because holy shit he was still holding her like that, and the warmth of his palm was pressed against the curve of her ass, squeezing without squeezing, like he knew—

Nevertheless, he walked forward, holding her like a maiden, without difficulty.

A slow drip of wetness slid between her thighs.

She turned her face to his chest, unable to meet his gaze, even as her ears trembled with need.

"Y-You're mean..." she muttered.

"I know," he said, voice low and unreadable. "But you're still not saying no."

She didn't answer.

She just stayed in his arms, burning, wet, humiliated, and despite her complaints... she was utterly, completely his.

Leona's body stayed tense in his arms. Not from injury—just heat. Too much of it. Her breathing was shallow. Her ears twitched now and then, betraying everything she tried to hide behind her silence.

Nikolai didn't speak as he carried her through the long stone halls of the Volkov estate.

She was light.

Too light.

Even with her thighs thick and legs strong from constant training, she felt like nothing in his arms.

Leona's damp clothes clung to her skin, ruined from the chase. A mix of sweat and tears damaged the fabric near her ribs, and her shorts had ridden up from the way he'd lifted her.

But she said nothing.

And he didn't let go.

Every few steps, his hand shifted slightly. His fingers brushed the curve of Leona's thigh, then lower. The wet heat at the base of her body was impossible to ignore. He didn't comment. But the scent was too bewitching.

He could smell her arousal. The faint musk. Not enough to embarrass her yet—but enough to make his brow tighten.

She didn't even realise how obvious it was.

He shut the office door with his heel.

Leona flinched slightly when the lock clicked into place behind them. Not fear—just nerves. He could feel it in the way her shoulders twitched, how her tail curled tight around her thigh.

She still hadn't said a word.

Nikolai carried her across the room without asking if she could walk. She didn't complain. Just clung to his shirt, face turned slightly away, but not far enough to miss how her ears twitched every time his grip shifted lower.

He sat her down on the couch. Same one where she'd used her hand to bring her master to a pleasant release. Unable to remove her gaze from between his legs, red-faced and trembling. She looked up and found his smirk, while breathless and flushed.

Her top clung to her, sweat-soaked and half torn from the chase. One strap was nearly falling off her shoulder. Her toned stomach rose and fell fast.

His eyes dropped lower, past her muscular thighs, to the obvious wet patch soaking into her crotch.

She noticed.

Her hands flew down, tugging at the fabric like she could hide it.

"I-It's not that."

His eyebrow raised. "No?"

"I mean… it's not what you think."

He moved closer, leaning above, towering over her. "Then tell me what I'm thinking."

Her lips parted. No words came out.

"I carried you in here," he said, voice low. "And the whole way, you smelled like you were ready to be fucked. You've been staring at me like you want me to pin you down, Leona."

Her ears flattened, face burning hot. "I wasn't—! I didn't—!"

"You chased a man in the dark and broke his face, but now you're panting like this?"

He crouched down and slid a hand along her thigh.

"So tell me… what's got you dripping through your shorts?"

Her eyes darted to the side. Her thighs pressed together on instinct.

He didn't stop.

His hand slid higher.

"I-It's… it's not fair when you talk like that…"

"I'm not playing fair?"

He pushed her without force, yet she fell onto her back, sucking in her breath as he climbed above her, and glared at her with narrow blue eyes.

"Is this unfair?"

Leona bit her lip enough to break the skin. She wanted to speak, but all that came out was a muffled moan... amused. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her ear.

"Are you turned on… because I looked at you like that?"

"Like a woman."

She didn't answer. But she didn't look away.

Her tail flicked once, her thighs parted slightly again, just enough to betray her.

Nikolai's fingers grazed the edge of her shorts, felt the heat radiating through the fabric. She gasped.

"You're shaking."

His lips curled with a teasing smile.

"I'm not scared."

"I know."

His hand stopped.

He pulled back slightly—not far.

Just enough to look her in the eye.

"Then say it."

"…Say what?"

He smiled.

A smile that made Leona's heart tremble, and her fingers sank into the leather cushion, panting as she wanted to admit everything.

Will he accept me?

Can I really be selfish and ask?

A mere half-breed like me?

"I..."

There was barely any distance between their lips; if she wanted to push him away, he gave her more than enough chances. Yet Leona's heart became hectic, but pleasant.

That's when she noticed the difference in his eyes, normally cold, fierce and ruthless...

However, right now, his gaze was warm, affectionate, and gentle.

Leona held her breath with parted lips.

And that was the moment she knew—she had already taken a step over that blurred line.