Her blood was sweet like a god's ambrosia. He was a god. He was the god of the hunt, the grim reaper of life. His teeth were his scythe. He was a demon.
He removed his mouth from her throat, savoring the intense flavor. He could taste the venom in her blood, he could practically hear her cells changing. He ran his hands along her skin, noticing how cool it became from the feed. She was so close to becoming like him.
To take her life or cherish her forever?
It was hard to chose. So he walked away.