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Cherry is here. 22 NSFW 18+ blog!!! Chicana. Brown Pride🇲🇽🇺🇸 What's a girl to do?

266 posts

Love That Bites Pt. 11

Hi! Here's part 11 to my Dracula x Reader series! I apologize for the huge delay, I've had a lot going on IRL, so I haven't has as much time/energy to write as I would have liked. Still, I hope you enjoy! I hope to have more happen in the next chapter as well, hopefully some action! Summary: Dracula finally manages to get things running somewhat smoothly, only to run into a snag when it comes to the potions he's had made for you. Thankfully, it isn't as big of a setback as it could be, so long as he can see you beginning to heal. During all of it, he begins to recognize some old feelings...

CW: Injury mention, death mention, brief description of injury, thoughts of murder,

Word Count: 6244 Words!

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Tag List: @pumpkinvampie, @bethleeham, @mshope16, @sixsixtwenty, @haleypearce, @rvautomatic, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @marshmelloe, @maorizon, @ursamajor17, @sapphicsfordracula, @dame-sunflowers, @sleepyendymion, @starrlo0ver, @onewiththebeanbag First: Here! Last: Here! Next: ? - - -

Dracula was beginning to wonder just how you had managed to survive so long on your own.

He wasn’t doubting your skills. In fact, Dracula could tell from a glance you were a powerful fighter, much like your ancestors had been. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the strongest Belmonts yet.

No, he was concerned over how you seemed lacking when it came to taking care of yourself.

Sure, you had bandaged yourself on the way to his castle, and he was thankful you seemed to have some sort of survival instinct.

But he noticed you didn’t put in too much effort though in your own health overall.

It wasn’t just from how you came to his castle recently, but something he had noticed long before he had been freed.

After the first few times he saw you, it was clear to him. You would briefly mention your headaches, and your homelife, how you just ‘dealt’ with it.

You had mentioned to him in a joke how even though you had been sick at one point, you just pushed through it while sleeping in your car for a week.

He couldn’t ask you at the time why you did such things, being trapped in stone. Now, he felt it would be counterproductive to ask you. Not until you were comfortable around him.

But it was a horrifying thing you mentioned offhandedly while eating a sandwich, and you refused to elaborate. Why would you put yourself through that?

Add that to his mental list of reasons why he had to investigate your home life. If anything, that was blatantly unhealthy. How the hell was your immune system putting up such a fight on its own if that was how you handled being sick at your home?

How did you handle most injuries before you met him? A part of him really did not wish to find out, but he couldn’t help but feel the desire to know.

Dracula was at least thankful you mentioned a small cabin once. After you had mentioned it while he was stone, you realized what you had said, and were quick to try and change the subject. You had not meant to tell him about it, it seemed.

But he was thankful at least that you had a small place nearby to rest.

At one point throughout the day as he checked in on you, he briefly considered going to see this cabin, or sending a scout to see where it was. However, he dismissed this idea almost as soon as he had thought it.

You’d no doubt be upset if you found out he had done so, and he would be willing to bet you had traps all over the land leading up to your small sanctuary away from your home.

It was only logical to assume so. You had found his castle nearby your own property.

Something he didn’t fail to see irony in. Of course his castle would choose a place nearby a Belmont’s property.

Still, if it had been him in your situation, he would have placed traps on top of traps once finding out such a thing. Sending an underling was just asking for it to either be captured, destroyed, or injured. Or for such information to spread to less enthusiastic minions who were disgruntled about your stay here.

No doubt when you inevitably left, you would check the traps, or at least notice one out of place, if not finding a dead monster's remains on your land. Dracula couldn’t afford to have you lose trust in him just because he was curious.

Yes… Dracula would wait, and put his patience to the test. He’d try to get you to open up to him, and show him yourself.

You already were showing you didn’t detest him, something that was bringing an old warmth to his cold heart.

He’d even wager you opened up to him just a little earlier, when you had mentioned your injuries had been from something personal.

Sure, it wasn’t a large amount of information, but it was progress.

Now, he just had to keep this progress going forward, something Dracula knew was not going to be smooth sailing as he had hoped. There was already unrest in the castle, he could just feel it.

No one had said anything to him, but Dracula was more in tune with his castle and its magic than people gave him credit for. Every being here had energy that was woven with the castle’s in some way shape or form.

And people were anxious.

Some were restless, some were afraid. Many were irritated.

A Belmont being treated as a guest? He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone or something acted out.

Dracula just hoped it wouldn’t be at your expense. He could clean any other mess as need be, but he wouldn’t stand you being injured further.

Alas, he couldn’t act unless someone else acted out first, or he could see they were planning something that involved you. Dracula, loathe as he may to admit it, would only cause more unrest by acting too hastily.

That was fine though, he could bide his time.

The only thing that had him on edge was your current injuries. Or rather, he didn’t want you fighting with your injuries and making them worse, especially after your healing has been progressing nicely.

Speaking of which, You were healing incredibly quickly. If it wasn’t for your lineage, he would have guessed you had some sort of distant supernatural blood in your veins, such as vampirism.

Still, even though you were healing at an impressive rate, it still wasn’t enough. Your injuries by all means could have killed you, and they were still deep and fresh.

His fingers tapped on the wood of his desk in his study, concern no doubt etched clear on his features.

Those potions should be finished today, or at least the first batch of them. The stronger type usually required a longer amount of time to simmer for better healing effects. Time though, was not something he could afford, so a batch of the regular sort would have to do.

Of course, he’d have to thoroughly check them himself after his alchemists were finished. He had not explained who the potions were for when he had ordered it to be done, but now, there was no doubt in his mind the ones creating the potions knew it was for a hunter.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t even trust most of his underlings with this. Even his more trusted ones, he was going to be forced to keep an eye on.

The chances of his alchemists messing with your potions were low, but not impossible. Thankfully, he knew potions very well after studying them centuries ago. Dracula was confident he could catch any ‘unneeded’ ingredients that might slip in the finished batch.

However, he hated that he would have to check.

“How bothersome…” he mumbled as he pressed his face into the palm of one of his hands.

Looking for poison itself wasn’t the issue, it’s something he’ll gladly do. It was the fact this would mean it would take longer to get the potions to you that irritated him.

If the potions were tampered with, like he worried they might be, he’d probably have to make them himself. Something he would also do without pause, but again, he didn’t wish for you to stay injured any longer than necessary.

Dracula rubbed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he had grown so protective of you like a mother hen.

The last time he could remember fretting over someone, was whenever his late wife had gotten sick, or when his son fell ill once or twice.

Back before everything fell apart.

He sighed, feeling another migraine coming on. It wouldn’t do well to think of that now. The less distractions, the better.

At least one good thing came from this. You were receptive to him checking in on you. Dracula doubted you would trust any of his underlings to do it, or at least any of them bringing you meals.

Not without him there to supervise, it seemed.

It was small, but that amount of trust you had in him was a lot for the circumstances.

Dracula felt another sigh escape his lips, and he ignored the temptation to lay his head on his desk like a daydreaming school boy.

What were you doing to him? Had the Great Dracula really fallen for a Belmont?

His eyes widened slightly at his own thoughts.

Fallen? No. Though he detested the idea of admitting he had a schoolboy crush.

He could at least admit he felt fonder for you than some human teenager just figuring themselves out, thank you very much.

Deep down however, thinking about this unsettled him.

Dracula cared for you. He could admit that in his head whole heartedly. Somehow, the Little Belmont had wormed their way into his cold, dead heart without even trying.

But he feared to think about what that meant for him. His life. His future. Your future.

The trust between you two was rocky, but it was there. Could he really push to have you trust him more? Was that really a future he could hope for? Try for? To even care about?

Was it even worth it?

Dracula ran a hand through his hair, and debated summoning another glass of blood to sooth the migraine he could already feel forming in his temples.

Himself and your family had been doomed to fight for centuries. Would even trying to open up the possibilities of at least a friendship be very wise?

Looking from the outside, it seemed like something doomed to fail.

So why did he want to try?

His fingers began to thrum idly on the desk again.

The answer was still the same as before. It was you.

You were different. Different from most Belmonts.

Was wanting to bet on that difference really worth the possible pain? Heartbreak? Potential agony?

Vlad’s eyes drifted over to a portrait that hung in his private study. One depicting his precious Lisa.

Lisa had been worth it, even if his time with her had been so cruelly cut short. He knew her time with her would have been limited, as she had wanted to stay human. It was one of the things that had made her so precious.

One of the few things he regretted was not being there for her when she needed him most. Probably one of his biggest regrets, alongside not being next to Elisabetha when she passed back when he had been human.

So perhaps… This too, would be worth it.

He could not deny that this was a golden opportunity. If, by small chance, he could change fate…

Perhaps he would not have to suffer being killed once more, and this damned cycle between him and your family could finally break.

Dracula was no fool. He was sure this cycle affected your family just as much as it did him. Ever since Leon, almost every Belmont has had to learn to fight creatures of the night. Either to be a hunter, or to avoid simply being the prey.

No doubt not every Belmont liked this, and judging from the small glimpses of your home life he has seen, the Belmont clan seems to have fallen into disrepair.

There was a darkness in your eyes when you spoke about your home, one that had him worrying all over again.

That was something else he was going to have to focus on. Your life at home.

Given that your clan was full of vampire hunters, even if he did by chance get your home’s location, he doubted himself or any of his underlings would be able to get too close. Surveillance wouldn’t be an easy option, or most likely would not be an option at all.

Unless, of course, your family’s home and protections have also deteriorated. Perhaps getting close to the home wouldn’t be as big of an issue.

But alas, he wouldn’t risk most of his underlings finding your home like that. He has a few he trusts, sure, but he couldn’t in good faith let most of them know where you lived.

All it would take is one slip up, and your home would no doubt be swarmed. Even if it wasn’t monsters from his circles, it wouldn’t take much from other groups to learn and decide to exterminate you en masse.

Even if no one could penetrate your home’s defenses, it wouldn’t be hard to stage an ambush to have you assassinated the moment you left your property. Or anyone else that lived with you.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed at that thought. Oh, how that was tempting, just to see those who may have hurt you torn to shreds.

But he had to wait. He’d have vengeance for you one way or another.

Before he could contemplate who he had to murder, he heard a brisk knock at his door. Crimson eyes narrowed, and with his mask slipping back into place, he sat back in his chair.

“Enter.”

Large doors to his study creaked open, and one of the alchemists he had working on your potions stepped into the room. A young man who had answered the Castle’s magical call for power and safety.

The young man before him tried not to tremble under his gaze, barely making eye contact before looking at a different part of the room. Dracula had to hold back an annoyed sigh.

A shame those who could create potions were few and far between, leaving him with such a sniveling fool. At least he could get the job done, along with the few others he had working under him.

“Is the task I set for you and the others finished?” he asked, thrumming his fingers against the desk once again, a bored look on his face.

Swallowing nervously, the alchemist nodded, before remembering he needed to speak.

“Y-Yes, milord. The first batch of potions has finished, but…”

Dracula raised an eyebrow. He was already nearing the end of his patience.

“But?”

The young man flinched, and the vampire tried not to roll his eyes.

“I’m afraid, ah… this batch won’t be that potent, due t-to us having to rush…”

As if Dracula didn’t already anticipate that.

No matter though. What was important was getting you something to fend back the majority of your injuries. Even if it is just enough to help you fight infection and mend a few patches of skin, it was better than nothing.

“I’m aware of the effect of making potions on such short notice. Is that everything?”

For a split second, the alchemist’s heartbeat spiked, and he avoided looking at the Vampire Lord. Dracula forced his face to remain neutral.

How curious.

“That’s everything, sir.”

Almost immediately, the shadows in the room crawled forward, and the temperature dropped a noticeable amount.

Dracula stood up from his chair to his full height, and leaned over his desk. His claws dug into the wood, and his eyes grew black and red.

“Tell me, Alchemist, why are you lying to me?”

A squeak left the young man’s lips, and he physically shrunk in on himself. No one wanted to be on Dracula’s bad side.

“I don’t tolerate liars in my court.”

The Alchemist fell backwards onto the floor in a scramble, and shuffled backwards a few feet. The door magically shut behind him, and he looked as if he were to faint.

Dracula felt the air grow heavy around him, and the pathetic man in front of him began to pant and shake.

“Now, what is it you are hiding from me?”

The threat was clear as day. Should the young man in front of him lie, or do something foolish, he would not live to see tomorrow.

Swallowing thickly, the Alchemist shakily stood to his feet.

“I… As I was finishing up my batch of potions, I overheard a few of the witches talking.”

Dracula had the tension in the air lesson to a degree. The boy in front of him was willing to speak, so he may as well not make it too difficult, lest the coward faint.

Though he made sure his displeasure was apparent.

“Go on.” Eyes darted between him and other parts of the room, the Alchemist shrunk in on himself further before speaking.

“I… I overheard them talking about how they think the hunter has bewitched you. That the hunter is going to kill you, and everyone involved.”

Dracula wanted to scoff. Just mild gossip. He wasn’t surprised it was already making the rounds, though he’d have to keep an eye on it lest it fester into something unmanageable without conflict.

Rumors and resentment building would only cause unrest, and the less he had to deal with, the better.

“And just who were the witches who were discussing this?” The man swallowed. “I don’t know.” “So you didn’t think to get a look on who it might be?” He shook his head, fingers twitching idly.

“No sir. But…”

Dracula could feel the throbbing in his temples. Perhaps he should summon some wine…

“...The witches talked about wanting to do something before it was too late.”

Now that caught Dracula’s attention.

“They what?!”

The Alchemist winced, though straightened up a little now that Dracula’s ire wasn’t entirely directed at him.

“I-I have no evidence, nor was I able to follow them, but- I think some of them might be planning something, sir.”

The room’s temperature dropped further, and at the moment, the Alchemist felt like his soul left his body.

Dracula was well known for his fury.

How his anger was icy, yet his fury ran hot.

“Planning something?”

His voice was low, in a way that was like a growl. Like a predator readying to bite down on the neck of its prey. It was inviting, yet it had the survival instincts of anything around him screaming to run.

The wind picked up around the castle, and lightning began to strike across the clouded sky. The flashes of light only seemed to emphasize the anger on his face.

Briefly, The King of the Night hoped you weren’t bothered by the pick up of the storm. Surely you’d notice the change in atmosphere…

But that was something he could check in with you later.

“And do you happen to know just what they might be planning? Or which ones it even was?”

Dracula’s mind was beginning to work overtime. Which witches lingered near the Alchemy lab? He's going to have to do a sweep it seemed, and soon. At least Castlevania would give him some insight should he ask for it.

If some of his underlings were already conspiring against him…

The boy in front of him was eerily silent, and Dracula held back from snapping. Killing the fool wouldn’t solve any of his issues, especially as he needed him for now.

Then, a thought suddenly hit Dracula, and he sat back into his seat, his claws growing sharper.

“Boy, where is the finished batch of potions?”

The Alchemist froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden question.

“Um… In the labs?”

Dracula’s eyes sharpened, almost glowing red.

“And is there anyone or anything protecting the finished batch of potions in the labs?”

“Ah…”

Running a hand across his face, Dracula fought the urge to kill something.

He was going to need that drink before visiting you.

—

Much to Dracula’s disappointment (and hidden fury), it was just as he had expected.

He had decided to check on the batch of the potion himself after that conversation, just to be sure it hadn’t been tampered with.

It was something he was already going to do, but now it was incredibly important to do so after hearing what the Alchemist had to say.

Just as he had feared, the main batch that had been left out had indeed been soiled.

The potion itself was a darker blue than it should have been, a first tell that something wasn’t quite right. Then there was the smell.

Potions already smelled a bit bland, with a hint of bitterness to them. However, he was able to catch the scent of something almost sour.

The texture itself was also a bit… thick. Closer to a cream rather than the liquid form it was supposed to have.

Dracula felt his brow twitch with thinly veiled disdain.

With a sigh, and barely hidden rage, he ended up banishing the whole batch. No point in taste testing when he could already smell the signs of tampering. The only thing he would be able to get out of a test would be what ingredients specifically had been added, but there was no point. Not when he already knew the results.

It seems he would have to keep a closer eye on things than he thought.

Even if the alchemists and potioneers he had working on this were as trustworthy as they could get, it seemed that there was only so much he could do before the rats began to poke their noses where they didn't belong.

As much as he hated to section off parts of the lab, it seems he would have to until you were healed, or he found all the idiots involved who dared try and pull a fast one on him.

Thankfully however, not everything was lost.

Dracula was thankful that moment for employing several alchemists to the lab for different batches of potions. He could just take from those, since they would have a similar effect.

The other alchemists were to keep working on different batches of potions, so he could have stronger ones brewing while the first batch was finished. This meant there would be less powerful ones, sure, but he would simply have more made.

What mattered was getting this first batch to you.

You may be healing relatively quickly and well, but he was quickly growing to dislike seeing you injured.

The shadows under your eyes, and how sunken in your face looked, added to your winces of pain… He hoped that he could help with that by taking care of your wounds.

It would be a long journey, he was sure. No doubt it would take more than just healing your injuries to actually have you looked… alive.

That was what had his cold, undead heart beating worriedly in his chest.

You didn’t look like you were living.

Sure, your blood pumped, your heart still beats, but you didn’t have a happy light in your eyes. Dracula could mistake you for one of his minions with how those eyes alone looked.

He was thankful though, seeing a spark in them. It was subtle, and only showed up on occasion.

However, he found himself yearning to protect it.

Ha. Him. Lord of the Night. King of all Vampires, wanting to protect his own supposed enemy. Even more so, with such… feelings developing.

Dracula still wasn’t sure whether to find it amusing, or pitiful.

The beast in his mind that he had embraced so long ago surprisingly didn’t fight him on it. At first, it had called him pathetic the first time he found himself wanting to help you.

But that same beast had quickly done a 180, quickly growing to respect you much like his logical side had.

And oh, how it had quickly grown protective.

Dracula felt his lips almost twitch upward at the thought, feeling the very same protectiveness stir in his soul as he approached your door.

He gave a brisk knock at the door, casting a brief glance to the living armors he had stationed near your room. Stone still as always.

After a brief moment, he heard your voice, telling him to come in.

Carefully he opened the door, and it was as if a weight was lifted off his chest just seeing you. The way you subtly perked up when seeing him, sitting up in your bed…

He tried not to let his pride get to him, how it was him that you were sitting up for.

‘One step at a time, Vlad.’

The scent of your blood though soon quickly caught his nose, and he felt himself stand straighter as he walked quickly to your side.

“Your injuries… did one re-open?” He was quick to ask, internally scolding himself when he felt the urge to have a taste.

For a Belmont, your blood was still such an intoxicating scent…

Sheepishly, you looked away from him after he arrived at your side.

“Ah… I fell on the way to the restroom. I accidentally pulled some stitches open, but I got the wound under control.”

If he had been a human, he would have sworn you were trying to give him a heart attack at this rate. How was it you were such a trouble magnet?

Gently, he leaned over you, his hands hovering over where your shirt was. Underneath, he could already smell the irritated wound and fresh blood.

His eyes met your own.

“May I?” He asked, desiring to see how bad it had gotten. His voice was soft and tender, not wishing to push you or make you uncomfortable.

You froze for a moment, and a glimmer of emotion passed in your eyes. However, it left as quick as it came, and you carefully pulled your arms up to give him access.

Even now, Dracula was still incredibly impressed with the trust you were giving him. If this had been any of your ancestors, or any hunter, really, he would no doubt be in a fight.

Gently, his cool hands brushed against your warm skin as he lifted your shirt upwards to see the bandaged wound. He pointedly ignored the shiver you have, no doubt his cold hands most likely the cause.

At least, that’s what he told himself, also ignoring how you tensed slightly. Or how he heard your pulse pick up as he got closer.

It was not the time to let his mind wander and theorize.

Dracula would give you credit, though. Your pain tolerance wasn’t anything to scoff at, and you were taking everything in stride, even now.

He removed the bandages with a gentle ease, and immediately internally stomped down the sudden hunger he felt.

The fresh scent of your blood still somehow managed to drive him crazy, even when he wasn’t starving.

To think he’d find a Belmont’s blood so appealing?

It took a bit of his will power to calm himself, before continuing to look at the wound. Pursing his lips, he let out a hum.

His hands held your midsection still as he observed the new damage, ignoring your sharp intake of air.

“Apologies…” He mumbled, knowing full and well his hands were most likely even colder the closer they were to your feverish flesh.

“No worries…” You breathed, your voice small. His eyes flickered up to your face, and your own were wide as you watched him. Still vigilant, even now. Cute.

Eyes back on your wound, he felt a bit of relief. Thankfully you hadn’t torn open as many stitches as he had feared, and you had cleaned the wound up well.

It seems getting rest and meals was helping you both physically, and mentally. You weren’t hanging on a thread, wrapping wounds with little regard to your life now.

Really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Even if he was worried about how you thought of yourself and your health in general, you of all people would know how to properly wrap a wound when in good conditions to do so.

After a moment, he pressed the bandages back onto your injury, and stepped back.

“Despite several stitches being pulled, it could have been worse.”

You pull your shirt down, and smile sheepishly.

“That’s good. It didn’t look too bad, but I’m glad you agree.” You spoke, rubbing the back of your neck a bit nervously.

It seemed you were still on edge, though he didn’t mind too much.

He looked you over for a moment as you fixed your shirt. You really were looking better than when you first arrived. Even from when he saw you this morning, you seemed to be improving.

At least, he was definitely thankful you no longer looked like you were dead on your feet.

Clearing his throat for a moment, he nearly smirked at how you almost jumped. Most would have missed how your muscles tensed, though he decided to count the fact he wasn’t outright scaring you a plus.

“I have something for you.”

Immediately your interest was piqued.

How you subtly leaned towards him and tilted your head, you were curious.

“You do?”

He stepped back for a moment, before holding out his hand. In a flash of smoke and light, a bottle appeared in his hand.

As he held it out to you, your eyes widened as you gently took it from his grip.

“A potion? You really made some?”

Dracula crossed his arms a bit in pride as you looked over the bottle.

“Of course. You’ll find I am not fond of breaking promises, or going back on my word.”

You took a moment to look over the bottle you now held in your hands, almost disbelieving. Dracula felt a pang of something in his heart. Pity? Worry? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like how astounded you looked over the fact he would get you some basic potions.

“I do apologize in advance. Due to the fact your injuries were severe, I had this made as fast as possible. It won’t heal you completely, but it should heal the worst of your wounds.”

For a moment, you were silent, clearly thinking.

“If you are worried about it being poisoned-” he began, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“No! No, it’s fine. Sorry. I trust it isn’t poisoned.” You spoke. After another moment, you pulled the cork off the bottle, and debated if you should take a sip.

“However, I do wish to warn you about something.” Dracula said, speaking before you could drink it. He may as well tell you now, before you take a drink. No doubt you’d be upset if he told you after.

You froze, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes…?”

Dracula let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming up to his forehead just thinking about it.

“Someone has tried to tamper with one of the batches of potions I have commissioned to be made.”

Your eyes widened, flickering to the potion, but he held up a hand to try and calm you before you could panic.

“I tossed that batch out after testing it myself. I can assure you the potion you hold in your hand has been deemed clean by myself personally. That one you hold in your hand was not supposed to go to you today. It was a batch that was supposed to simmer for a few more days.”

“To become a stronger batch…” You murmured, and Dracula felt a small twinge of pride. He supposes it shouldn’t be a surprise you would know such things, given how often you probably used potions in general.

“So… Someone wanted me dead…?” You asked, still eyeing the bottle critically. Dracula’s face turned a bit more sour.

“Unfortunately so. I will not lie to you, having you as my guest has… ruffled some feathers. I’m currently investigating those I believe tried to lace the potion with poison.”

Bright eyes flickered to him, and he caught that look, one of near disbelief.

“Why? I don’t particularly blame them, I’m a hunter, after all…” You murmured once again, eyes glancing back to the bottle.

“Because you are my guest. I will not tolerate those who wish to go against my orders, and attempt to kill the company I deemed worthy to keep.”

Dracula wondered if you weren’t used to such thoughts, with the way he saw emotions flicker across your face, gone as quick as they came.

Summoning a chair from the side of the room, he sat down, placing his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin over his clasped hands.

“If you don’t wish to drink that potion, I will not force you. It will just take a longer period for you to fully recover. I will not blame you for doing so.”

After all, he just admitted someone tried to use a different batch to kill you. He wouldn’t blame you for being careful.

You seemed to think for a moment, and Dracula decided to keep speaking as you thought about it.

“I also wish to officially inform you that unrest is beginning to stir in the castle. However,” Dracula began, taking in your expression of slight alarm, “I once again wish to reiterate something. You are allowed to protect yourself. I will not vilify you if you defend yourself from an attack.”

It was the truth. He had means to see if it was self defense, or a planned attack. He doubted you would attack unprompted.

You look at him a bit confused.

“But… How would you know it was self defense? The monsters who want me dead could just lie as a group, right?”

Dracula felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards. You had clearly been thinking about this, though he could tell it was something that must have weighed on your mind.

Not so much you thinking you could get away with attacking his subordinate, rather, you were worried about being attacked and thinking ahead.

He felt his lips curl into a small, amused smirk.

“I have my ways of figuring out what happens throughout my castle without being present.”

It was through his close connection with Castlevania, really.

Thanks to his connection, he was able to loosely figure out just who had tampered with your potions. Needless to say, it wasn’t hard to get the two witches to admit it, with how weak willed they were.

His castle was now a few witches less. Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t all of them, he was sure. Dracula still had a bit of investigating to do. The two he disposed of were just the ones who admitted to it, and Dracula could tell more were involved. No doubt he would be busy later looking further into the matter.

Some certainly weren’t happy with him, but alas, that was what happened when you attempted to hurt those he was protecting.

You seemed a bit skeptical, or perhaps curious?

“Um… Is it through the power of Chaos you can?”

As soon as you asked it, a worried look appeared on your face.

“Uh, if that isn’t too personal of a question, I mean…?”

He almost wanted to laugh. You were trying to be respectful, unsure if that was too much information to ask for.

“Trying to figure out a way to one up your enemy, hm?” He asked, though his lips ticked upwards in a full grin, clearly teasing you. Dracula could tell that wasn’t what you meant.

“No! That’s not what I-! I didn’t- fuck, I mean-”

It was adorable how you sputtered, and tried to catch your words to apologize.

“Relax, I’m only teasing you. Yes, it’s partially through the power of Chaos. Though Castlevania itself is bound to my very soul. Not much gets past me, should the castle alert me about it.”

You instantly relaxed at his words, and seemed to perk up in interest.

Once again, your eyes flickered to the bottle in your hand.

“Is that how you found out the last potion was poisoned?”

Dracula hummed, leaning back in the chair.

“No. One of my Alchemists alerted me to the fact several witches were discussing how they were… unhappy about your presence. I decided to check on the potion early, even if it was finished. I simply had my castle assist me in finding out who had done it.”

Silence filled the room once more. It seemed you were unsure what you wanted to say next.

After a beat passed, you looked back at him.

“Thank you, then. For checking. And for giving this to me.”

Your voice was soft, as was your smile.

If Dracula still breathed, he just knows his breath would have caught in his throat.

That was a smile that was worth protecting.

After you thanked him, you brought the bottle to your lips, and began to drink down the potion.

The effect was almost immediate. Even if he couldn’t see most of your wounds, he could see how you changed.

You no longer favored one side, leaning oddly to the left. Nor did you hold your arm as close as before. In fact, your body seemed to relax even further, now that the worst of the injuries were finally repairing from the magic treatment.

When you finished the drink, you pulled the bottle away from your lips, a disgusted look on your face presumably due to the taste. You coughed for a moment, and shook your head a bit.

After gathering your bearings, you then looked back up to Dracula, and truly smiled.

For once, you looked happy. You looked alive.

Yes, Dracula thought. Pursuing a future where you two don’t have to fight, would be one worth aiming for, just to see you smile once more.