The Consumption

The wedding was a signature on a piece of paper in the estate’s library. No guests. No banquet. Just Mei, Feng, and the silent lawyer.

Feng looked different in a suit. He was elegant, sharp, the perfect image of a Shanghai CEO. The redness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold, dark obsidian. But Mei remembered the basement. She remembered the heat.

"My wife," Feng said, handing the pen to the lawyer. He turned to Mei. He didn't smile. He looked at her with clinical appreciation, the way a man looks at a very expensive, very effective dialysis machine.

"You look tired," he said.

"I haven't slept," Mei replied quietly.

"Come."

He led her to the master bedroom. It was opulent, decorated in dark wood and gold silk. Rain lashed against the windowpanes.

Feng took off his jacket. He unbuttoned his cuffs.

"It is time to consummate," he said.

Mei flinched. "I... I'm not ready."

Feng paused. He walked over to her, towering over her small frame. He reached out and brushed a thumb over her cheek. His touch was cold now.

"It is not about sex, Mei," he said softly. "It is about balance. My Yang is a wildfire. Your Yin is the water. If I do not feed, the fire returns. Do you want the beast to return?"

Mei shook her head frantically.

"Then give me your shoulder."

Mei hesitated, then lowered the collar of her silk robe.

Feng leaned down. His breath ghosted over her skin. Then, sharp pain.

He bit her.

It wasn't a nip. His teeth sank into the junction of her neck and shoulder, piercing the skin.

Mei cried out, trying to pull away, but he held her fast.

Then came the sensation. It felt like he was drinking her wakefulness. It felt like he was siphoning the color out of her vision. She felt her knees go weak, her head swimming with a sudden, violent vertigo.

It lasted only a few seconds. Feng pulled back, licking a drop of blood from his lip.

He looked... radiant. His skin flushed with color, his eyes bright and alert. He stood straighter, vibrating with renewed power.

Mei collapsed onto the bed. She felt heavy. Hollowed out. Like she had just run a marathon after donating blood.

"Good girl," Feng whispered. He pulled the duvet over her. "Sleep now. You have done your duty."

He walked to the window, energized, looking out at his city with the hunger of a wolf. Mei lay in the dark, touching the stinging wound on her shoulder, feeling colder than she had ever felt in her life.

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