Wasteland. A grave pit in the middle of nowhere—
The slim, pale body of a young girl had been tossed right on top of a mound of graves.
She wore a torn-up white dress, ragged and dirty, her waist-length black hair spilled out like ink.
Her delicate face was smeared with mud, and her snapped neck bent into a grotesque Z-shape. The whole scene was eerie, almost weirdly beautiful.
Then all of a sudden, the girl opened her eyes.
The corner of her lips lifted slightly. She raised one hand and gently reached for the crescent moon hanging in the night sky. The movement was stiff, almost puppet-like, yet strangely soft.
"Hehe, I’m out..."
Those idiots at the institute.
They really thought they’d taken her down with them.
What they didn’t know was that as long as she found a fresh corpse, she could latch onto it and keep going.
"Ow... this hurts so bad. How did this human die so miserably?"
Serena Voss felt like every bone in her body was being drilled through with pain.
She had no choice but to slowly get used to this new shell first.
Then suddenly—
Serena heard breathing nearby.
Very light. Steady. Low.
Whoever it was was obviously trying hard to keep it under control, but it still couldn’t escape her sharp senses.
Mm. Perfect. She happened to need a little energy boost right now...
Serena tried moving her limbs.
"Crk-crk-crk-crk—"
The joints in the girl’s body made a strange clicking sound. In a twisted, creepy posture, she crawled quickly toward where the breathing was coming from.
Moonlight spread across the ground.
Under a large tree, she touched a man’s arm.
"Don’t move."
The man spoke in a hoarse voice.
His voice was just like his breathing—low, heavy, powerful, thick with raw masculine tension.
He sounded like someone long used to giving orders. His tone was cold, carrying that absolute kind of pressure people didn’t dare go against.
If it were some ordinary girl, she probably really would’ve frozen on the spot.
But Serena wasn’t an ordinary girl.
She wasn’t even human.
Her cool little hand slid up from his arm until it looped around his neck. Her other palm settled over his firm abdomen, fingertips circling lightly near the wound that was still bleeding.
"If I leave you alone, you might die, you know," Serena said with a soft laugh.
Her voice was sweet and light, almost silky to the ear, but when she dragged the last note out, it felt like tiny ice needles were hidden inside it. Enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.
Vincent Mercer felt a few strands of fragrant hair brush past his jaw.
Damn it.
This woman had clearly crawled out of a trash-strewn graveyard, so why didn’t she smell rotten at all? If anything, there was a strangely seductive scent on her.
Like a rose garden full of thorns at midnight—dangerous, but impossible to ignore.
"Get lost," Vincent said hoarsely.
He was forcing himself to hold back.
Those killers hadn’t gone far yet.
If, at a time like this, some random girl got him worked up and drew attention, and those people came back to finish the job, that would be the most ridiculous way to die.
But the girl acted like she hadn’t heard the threat at all. She still stayed draped over him.
She lowered her head, bringing her nose close to Vincent Mercer’s wound, sniffing lightly like some curious little animal.
He could feel her faint breath.
"Your genes are excellent."
The girl’s pupils looked like glass, reflecting a strange dark glimmer as she stared at the blood dripping from her own fingers, watching it slowly blend with the blood from Vincent’s wound.
Rare.
And the compatibility was surprisingly high too.
A gentle smile curved on her lips. "I can heal your injury. But in exchange, you have to promise me one thing, okay?"
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
He’d been ambushed this time. He had lost too much blood, and the wound had already been contaminated by poison from the weapon. Even if he made it out alive, there would definitely be lasting damage.
And yet this mysterious girl in front of him was saying she could heal him.
If this had happened before, he would’ve thought that kind of claim was plain stupid.
But tonight...
For some reason, Vincent actually believed her.
"State your condition."
At last, he opened his mouth, voice rough and low.