After hearing her mother's words, a strange calmness settled over Elena. A faint smile curved her lips. Lina saw it and continued, hoping to sustain that fragile spark of hope:
"You must listen carefully and do exactly as I say… even if it means offering yourself as a delicious meal to a starving wolf who hasn't tasted flesh in years."
Elena's eyes widened at the strange metaphor, but she nodded—trusting her mother more than her own fear. Seeing that trust, Lina felt more certain and spoke in a softer tone:
"Elena, my dear… Daniel is the one behind your illness. I believe the blood you tasted caused all this. I've made an agreement with him—he's willing to help you recover. So please, listen carefully."
Elena remained silent, allowing her mother to speak:
"According to him, the cure is his body. You'll need him once a week, at least. I don't fully believe his claims, which is why I'm sending you to him now—to discover the truth for yourself. Your life depends on it."
Elena's face paled. Confusion and disbelief filled her features as she whispered:
"Mother… you know how absurd that sounds. He's playing with us. He wants to turn us into his pawns."
Lina sighed, brushing her fingers across her daughter's forehead:
"I know… but I have no other choice. I need you to buy us time—and find the antidote. Our lives may depend on you now."
Her words struck Elena like an arrow to the chest. Just a week ago, she had been scolded for the very act her mother now encouraged—openly, and with full knowledge. Embarrassment washed over her, but death stood at her door. There was no time for shame.
She nodded.
Lina's face brightened slightly. She called her maid and ordered her to bring Lara. Within minutes, Lara entered and bowed.
Lina spoke firmly:
"Carry Elena to Daniel's chamber. Now."
No explanations. No questions. Just an order.
Lara hoisted Elena onto her back and moved quickly through the palace corridors and royal tunnels toward the queen's private wing.
Daniel was lying on his bed, unshackled, dressed in smooth silk. He turned as the door creaked open, and saw Lara enter, carrying Elena.
He stood up, motioned toward the bed. Lara understood, laying Elena down gently. A few seconds later, Lina entered.
She ordered her maid to leave and not allow anyone near. The maid obeyed without hesitation.
Now the three of them stood in silence.
Daniel broke it with a mocking smile:
"Why are you still standing there? Do you want to watch your daughter get intimate with me? If that's what you're into… who am I to refuse having both mother and daughter in bed with me?"
Amusement danced in his eyes as he licked his lips with exaggerated lust.
A chill ran down Lina's spine. Her voice, when it came, was sharp with fury:
"Keep dreaming. But if anything happens to her… I swear, I'll tear you apart and drink your blood. So take care of her."
With that, she turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
Silence fell again. Daniel turned to Elena, who was struggling to breathe, her eyes closed.
He lay beside her and whispered:
"I know you're not asleep. Don't bother pretending."
Elena opened her eyes, flushed more with embarrassment than anger, and said coldly:
"Just get it over with. I can't stand being in the same room—or breathing the same air—as you."
Her words dripped with venom, which only made Daniel grin:
"Ah, beautiful Elena, pretending to be strong… when just a week ago you were moaning under me, begging me to stop."
Poison answered with poison.
But Elena said nothing. She knew she had to preserve her strength, observe, and uncover the truth. Her mother's instructions rang loud in her head.
Seeing she wouldn't respond, Daniel smirked:
"You've lost your fire. Where's the wildcat from a week ago? At least she made things fun."
Elena turned her head away and coughed—blood spilled from her delicate lips.
Daniel bit his lower lip hard, drawing blood, then leaned over her. He cupped her face gently, staring into her pale, exhausted eyes.
Their eyes locked—shame filled hers, while desire smoldered in his.
She tried to turn her head again, but he stopped her.
A few drops of his blood fell onto her lips, mixing with her own.
Then, suddenly, his mouth was on hers. The taste of blood and saliva blended, flowing into her mouth.
She pushed at his chest, feebly trying to resist, but her strength had abandoned her.
Daniel let her struggle—he knew her weakness was the very path to her healing.
Minutes passed. The sweet taste of his saliva overpowered the metallic tang of blood.
She was gasping for breath—but Daniel didn't care. Even if she died in his arms, he wouldn't stop.
But then something shifted—heat surged through her body, not feverish this time, but something else. Strength.
Elena bit his lip hard, forcing him to pull away.
The room pulsed with a strange, charged silence. Their eyes spoke a language neither wanted to interpret. She opened her mouth to speak, struggling to find words.
Finally, she burst out in fury:
"Are you insane?! You're not healing me—you're trying to kill me!"
Daniel laughed, satisfied.
"Funny… someone tried to kill me the same way once. Didn't work."
Her face flushed red—she remembered now. It was she who had done that to him, a week ago. And this was his revenge, exact and cruel.
He leaned in again, this time his voice low and final:
"Enough talk. We're done with words. It's time… for bodies to speak."