Chapter 191: Vampire Luna

The old hunter remained completely unfazed by my outburst. He calmly stabbed his fork back into his plate, lifted a piece of meat to his mouth, and began chewing with a slow, relaxed rhythm. A subtle, amused smile played at the corners of his lips as he looked across the table at me.

"I am not trying to manipulate you, girl," he stated, his rough voice completely devoid of anger. "I don't even need or expect your appreciation, because whether you thank me or curse my name changes absolutely nothing. I was dead serious about what I said from the very beginning. Everything I have done for you up to this moment was done solely because of my debt to your mother, Juliana."

He paused, resting his thick wrists on the edge of the wood, his dark eyes meeting my furious glare with steady composure. "I fully understand why you are angry and hurt right now. I completely get it, and honestly, I expect nothing less from a bitter child who has been forced to suffer. But I sincerely hope that with time, this hard lesson will serve you well in the long run. Sooner or later, when you are out there surviving in the real world, you will look back and finally realize that I actually helped you."

Without waiting for me to respond, he shifted his gaze toward the corner where Ava was nervously hovering. "Enough with the endless cleaning, girl. Sit down and eat your breakfast."

A tentative, relieved smile broke across Ava's face. "Thank you, sir," she whispered, quickly moving toward the dining area.

She pulled out the chair directly beside mine and sat down, immediately reaching for a piece of toasted bread. Before she could take a bite, the Butcher cleared his throat loudly, his forehead furrowing into a stern frown as he fixed his sharp gaze on her.

"Ava, have some basic manners," he scolded, his tone dropping into a firm, commanding growl. "You are serving under her. She is your Luna, and she is supposed to be served her breakfast before you even touch a plate."

Ava’s face flushed bright red with instant embarrassment. "Oh... oh, I am so sorry!" she gasped, nearly dropping her bread as she scrambled out of her chair.

She rushed over to the small cooling box resting near the counter, her hands trembling slightly as she pulled out a sealed blood bag. She hurried back to the table, placing the cold pouch gently on the surface directly in front of my hands.

"I am so sorry, Luna Amanda," she stammered, wincing softly. "I completely forgot myself for a second."

She slunk back to her seat, keeping her head low as she quietly resumed eating her meal.

I sat frozen in my chair, staring down at the thick plastic pouch resting on the wood. I didn't say a single word. My dark pupils remained fixed on the crimson liquid trapped behind the clear barrier, a heavy, unreadable expression settling over my features.

The Butcher took a slow sip from his glass, watching my motionless frame with a quiet, knowing glint in his eye. "Come on now... drink up. Don't be shy, and don't let your silly anger starve you. Remember, girl, your ego doesn't care about your hunger, but your body certainly does."

I cut my eyes toward him, my top lip twitching with suppressed irritation. "Fine," I snapped coldly, my raspy voice slicing through his arrogant tone. "Just stop talking."

I reached out with a trembling hand, snatched the blood bag off the table, and popped open the plastic cap. I brought the opening straight to my lips and squeezed the thick pouch, pressing the cool crimson juice directly into my mouth.

The instant the first drop touched my tongue, an intense, electric chill shot straight down my spine like a lightning bolt. It felt as though every single dried-up vein, dormant muscle, and exhausted bone inside my body instantly woke up from a deep coma. The sheer sweetness of nature’s purest juice exploded across my senses, so overwhelming that my eyes snapped shut on their own, allowing me to fully immerse myself in the divine, life-giving taste. The flavor was simply beyond perfection.

I forced myself to drink slowly, taking small, deliberate sips to savor every single second. Every tiny drop felt like soothing, icy liquid sliding down my throat and rushing through my veins, washing away the lingering burn from the human food. My hybrid strength surged back into my limbs with terrifying speed. It felt as if I had been locked away in a dark, lifeless slumber for centuries and was finally opening my eyes to the real world again.

I had never realized that a simple twenty-four-hour fast could feel so endlessly agonizing. It felt as though years had passed since I last tasted a single drop of blood.

I didn't want the liquid to end. I tried my best to manage it, pacing my gulps and holding each sip in my mouth as long as possible. But when I finally opened my eyes and squeezed the pouch tight, I realized it was completely bone-dry.

I tossed the empty plastic onto the table, pushed my heavy chair back, and stood up straight, my restored strength radiating through my stance.

"Ava," I said, my voice sharp, clear, and leaving no room for argument

. "It's time to go."