My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

The scene shifted to a quieter environment, though the tension still hung in the air. Nafiri and Misty were seated around an improvised stone table, along with Skyla, Mercedes, and Jeanne.

They were waiting for Dante and his wives, who were taking longer than anyone had expected.

It had been just over a day since he entered the hot spring with his wives and still hadn't returned.

"I don't know about you, but this is starting to make me impatient," Nafiri muttered, resting her chin on her hand and tapping her fingers on the table. "Who knows what they're doing? What could possibly be taking this long?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Misty replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. She seemed less surprised than Nafiri. "The guy came back almost like a god, and those women... Well, they have their priorities." She let out a dry laugh, but there was a trace of envy in her voice.

Skyla, the most reserved and the one actually busy with a few things Dante had asked her to do, glanced toward the horizon. Her expression was calm, but her eyes revealed a hint of concern. "I understand that he needs time to... decompress," she said, choosing her words carefully. "But we can't ignore that time is running out. Something big is about to happen."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Exactly," Jeanne, the most serious among them, adjusted her gloves and looked at the others. "We've received more news about Mary Rose and her forces... They attacked a ruin in the Eastern Kingdom..."

Mercedes, who had been silent until now, sharpening a dagger, looked up with a small, mocking smile. "Prepared? Speak for yourselves. I've been holding my sword, waiting for the next target. And you, Jeanne, are so focused on what's coming next. How about focusing on the now? If Dante is... busy, so be it. He always comes back, doesn't he?"

Jeanne huffed, but didn't argue. Meanwhile, Nafiri looked at the sky, clearly bored. "I hope he can stop this. I'm tired of waiting while the whole world seems on the verge of falling apart." She paused and glanced at Misty with an intrigued expression. "Do you think he's having more fun than he should?"

Misty let out a short laugh. "I think he deserves to have fun. I just hope he comes back with his head on straight. Or at least enough energy to not leave us hanging."

At that moment, a strange wind swept through the area, carrying with it a palpable sense of pressure. The women fell silent for a moment, instinctively going on alert.

"Was that... Dante?" Skyla asked softly, almost fearing the answer.

Mercedes spun the dagger between her fingers and stood up, her face tinged with excitement. "I think the party's over. He's coming back."

"Well... the Valkyries are already here, the Virtues, and everyone else..." Jeanne spoke.

The scene shifted to the silent interior of the library. The immense bookshelves, filled with ancient tomes, created labyrinthine corridors of knowledge, dimly lit only by the soft glow of a few candles. Fenrir was focused on organizing a stack of worn books, her movements quick and sure, but her expression carried a rare tranquility.

She ran her fingers along the cover of one of the books, feeling its aged texture beneath her nails when, suddenly, her body stiffened. An invisible current ran down her spine, causing every hair on her body to stand on end.

Fenrir froze immediately, her eyes narrowing, her ears—still in humanoid form—moving instinctively to detect something in the environment.

Then, she felt it.

A smell. Not just any smell. It was so dense, so lascivious and saturated with... lust, that it seemed to carry a physical weight. The scent cut through the air like an oppressive wave, striking directly at Fenrir's keen sense of smell. It was something impossible to ignore.

Fenrir staggered back slightly, bracing herself against the nearest bookshelf. Her eyes widened a little as her nostrils involuntarily flared. A shudder ran through her body, and she felt a sudden weakness in her legs.

"This scent..." she murmured to herself, her voice hoarse and almost muffled. Her hand gripped the fabric of her clothes at her chest as if trying to steady her heart, which was beating faster than it should. "Where... is this coming from?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. But the smell persisted, enveloping her like an invisible, suffocating veil. It was unmistakable: it could only be him.

"Dante..." the name slipped from her lips in a low whisper, almost a growl. Fenrir felt her fangs elongating slightly, her primal nature reacting to the unexpected and unsettling stimulus.

Even in her human form, her beastly condition could not be denied.

"What has he done... now?" she wondered, trying to push the thought away. Her face involuntarily flushed, and she slammed her fist against the bookshelf with enough force to make the books tremble.

Fenrir took a deep breath, trying to calm the wave of confusing sensations coursing through her body. She knew that Dante was... busy, as always, with something extraordinary, but this was going beyond any limits she was prepared to feel.

"That bastard..." she muttered, staring at the library door with a mixture of frustration and something she didn't dare admit.

"Did he even remember to clean himself? What a smell of... ah... it's no use, I'll have to look for a mask, otherwise..." Fenrir murmured, placing his hands on his private parts... "Otherwise I'll get all my clothes dirty."

Fenrir squeezed his thighs together, trying to contain the overwhelming heat that seemed to spread through his body like wildfire. The smell persisted, invading her senses, numbing her rational mind and awakening instincts that she fought to keep buried. She huffed, frustrated with herself.

"This is ridiculous..." she hissed between her teeth, clenching her hands even tighter against her own intimacy, as if she could put out that fire with willpower alone. "Why am I... of all people... reacting like this?!"

She felt her face heat up violently, her cheeks tinged an intense red. Even in his humanoid form, Fenrir was a primal creature, driven by instincts that were rarely confronted so abruptly. That smell was a direct provocation to everything she was.

"Damn Dante..." she muttered once more, her voice laden with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "Did he even think he could... could do something like that to me?"

Fenrir turned away from the bookcase and began to walk through the library, her steps irregular, her breathing rapid. She needed air, she needed to get away from that place saturated with his scent. With each movement, however, the sensation between her legs only worsened, the accumulated heat becoming a slow and cruel torture.

"A mask... I need a mask... or a bloody cold bath!"

Her lupine eyes desperately searched for a solution amid the muffled silence of the library. Finally, she picked up a handkerchief folded among the books and pressed it against her face, trying to filter the air. But it was no use - the smell seemed to have permeated everything, including herself.

Fenrir slid down until she was sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the bookshelves. Her breathing was heavy, her hands still shaking as she tightened the fabric of her clothes.

"If I... carry on like this... I'll lose control." Her tone was almost a low moan, her voice choked by the internal struggle she was waging against her own body. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the insistent throbbing of her desire... But...

"I'm sorry, I must have influenced you too much." His voice came from beside her, and the next thing she knew... Dante was beside her, sitting on the floor with her while she...

"Kyaa!!!" Fenrir gave a startled cry and quickly threw herself to the side, falling headfirst into the man's chest...

Fenrir's head hit Dante's firm chest with a thud, her small body trembling against him as she tried to regain her composure. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the scent of him filling her nostrils and making her head spin with desire. It took all the willpower she had not to bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in deeply.

"I'm fine..." She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... Give me a minute."

But even as she spoke, Fenrir could feel her resolve crumbling. Her body was on fire, every nerve screaming for Dante's touch. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, exploring every inch of her curves. She wanted him to take her, to make her completely his.

Fenrir bit her lip hard, trying to distract herself from the pain throbbing between her legs. But it was no use. Her body was betraying her, pushing her further and further towards the brink of oblivion.

"I... I can't..." She whimpered, her eyes closing as a wave of pleasure washed over her. "Dante... Please..."

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Dante's hand came up to caress Fenrir's cheek, his thumb running lightly over her trembling lower lip. "Shh... It's okay," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "I've got you."

And then, without warning, he leaned down and captured Fenrir's lips in a searing kiss. His mouth was hot and hungry against hers, his tongue delving deep to taste her completely. Fenrir moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling in Dante's hair as she pulled him closer.

It was as if a dam had burst inside her, all the pent-up desire and craving pouring out in a rush. She clung to Dante like a lifeline, desperate to feel more of him, to lose herself completely in his touch.

Then... She quickly pushed him away! "W-why did you do that!" She said frightened... After all... It was her first kiss...

"Huh? You wanted it" He spoke as if it were... nothing... "Besides... it looks like I caused it..." He said as he looked at the completely helpless Wolf Goddess.

Fenrir felt herself blush at Dante's remark. She bit her lower lip, embarrassed and ashamed of what she had done. She had kissed him without thinking, driven by the burning fire of desire that consumed her body.

"I... I'm sorry..." She mumbled, looking down at the floor. "I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay." Dante interrupted her, his voice soft and reassuring. "I don't mind."

Fenrir looked up at him in surprise. "You don't mind?" She repeated, incredulous.

Dante smiled a quiet, warm smile. "Why should I? I caused it by being irresponsible with my smell. There's nothing wrong with that. I just took responsibility..."

"And well... after 150 years, I find it difficult that my scent hasn't left its mark on my body... After all... I did a lot of things in the hot spring..." Dante spoke with a crooked smile and scratched his head...

Fenrir's eyes widened... "150 years?..." She muttered...

"1 year was ten minutes... I stayed more than 24 hours..." Dante said...

"You spent 150 years... Having sex?..."