Martial Emperor of Blue Star, Turned into a Blood Slave Girl by a Vampire Princess

A stark stain of red bloomed across the tangled bedsheets.
Degrienne curled up beneath the covers, silver hair soaked with tears, clinging to her pale cheeks.
Catherine cradled her in her arms, gently combing her fingers through that damp hair, as if the violence from moments ago had never happened.

Degrienne’s face was pressed against Catherine’s chest, forced into the soft swell of it. Every sob made it harder to breathe.
She struggled to lift her head, but Catherine’s arms tightened with bone-bruising force—
As if she meant to crush her, to knead her into her own flesh and blood.

“Why…”
Degrienne’s voice was raw and broken. “Why won’t you let me die… why do you have to humiliate me like this…”
“Because I love you.”

Catherine laughed softly, fingertips brushing the bite marks on her lips. “My essence takes a toll on me, you know. If I didn’t love you, why would I use it to save you?”
Her voice was gentle. “Don’t you understand yet? No one in this world would ever indulge you like I do. No one… would ever love you like I do.”
Degrienne’s eyes gradually lost focus, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

Catherine’s words were riddled with contradictions—but she no longer had the strength to argue. Or even to think.
—What kind of love is this?
But her body remembered the pain. The shame. And that twisted, forbidden pleasure that should never have existed.

Catherine savored the feeling of the trembling girl going still in her arms, red eyes gleaming with satisfaction in the dark.
“I’ll teach you how to be a good girl.”
She kissed away the tears at the corners of Degrienne’s eyes. “You belong to me. From soul to body…”

Her fingers traced the bruises blooming across Degrienne’s collarbone. “You’ll understand soon enough—this is where you truly belong.”
Degrienne’s gaze grew more vacant, as if her soul were unraveling thread by thread.
Catherine stroked her silver hair softly, twirling the strands around her fingers, whispering her sick little promises of possession.
Degrienne gave no reply. She just lay there, quiet against Catherine’s chest, crimson eyes dull and unfocused like a porcelain doll.

“So obedient.” Catherine smiled and pinched her cheek lightly before helping her sit up. “You must be hungry. Let’s get you something to eat.”
Before the words had fully left her lips, a swarm of shadowy bats surged in from every direction, engulfing them in an instant.
Darkness flooded her vision. When Degrienne opened her eyes again, they were seated at the long dining table.

Candlelight flickered, casting a soft glow across the table piled high with decadent food—
Rich red wine, seared venison steak, moonlight mushrooms glowing faintly blue, and plump bloodfruits dripping crimson juice.
Catherine pulled Degrienne onto her lap, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other lifting a silver dining knife to slice off a piece of venison with slow, deliberate care.

“Open up.” She brought the fork to Degrienne’s lips, voice tender but leaving no room for refusal.
Degrienne reflexively reached out to take the fork—only for Catherine to seize her wrist in a firm grip.
“I said,” Catherine’s red eyes narrowed, “I’m feeding you.”

Degrienne slowly lowered her hand, opening her mouth like an obedient pet.
She chewed slowly but ate everything Catherine fed her, not refusing even the blood she hated most.
Catherine’s lips curled faintly—then stiffened.

Too quiet.
What she craved was resistance. Struggle. The intoxicating moment when defiance broke into submission. Not this soulless puppet in her lap.
After the meal, Catherine picked up a silk handkerchief and gently wiped Degrienne’s lips.

Her hand paused.
She leaned in to lick away a drop of bloodfruit juice, tongue brushing deliberately over the soft curve of her lips.
Catherine cupped Degrienne’s chin, her voice turning honey-sweet. “Why won’t you speak?”

A flicker of genuine loneliness passed through her crimson eyes. “I’m so lonely… I want to hear your voice.”
Her thumb brushed Degrienne’s sealed lips, coaxing. “Just one word… try saying my name?”
Degrienne’s lashes trembled faintly—but she stayed silent.

Catherine let out a soft sigh, cradling her cheeks with both hands. “Want to go play on the swing in the rear courtyard?”
It sounded like a question—but there was no room for no.
She lifted Degrienne into her arms and carried her outside.

The night breeze was gentle, roses perfuming the air.
Catherine sat on the swing, Degrienne nestled in her lap, and with a light press of her toes, they began to sway.
Moonlight bathed them both. From a distance, they looked like a loving mother and daughter, or sisters clinging to each other… or something far more complicated.

“I’ve lived far too long.”
Catherine’s voice drifted on the wind. “Four thousand years… As one of the Thirteen Princes, countless humans have begged for my First Embrace.”
She looked down at the face resting against her. “Even those so-called heroes once knelt before me, begging for eternal life.”

The swing arced higher. Catherine’s red eyes caught the moonlight. “But none of them were worthy.”
“Only you… From the very first moment I saw you on Blue Star, I knew—”
“You were mine.”

Her voice dripped with deranged tenderness:
“We’ll spend eternity together. Your «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» talent, your iron will… even your defiant little expressions… all of it drives me wild.”
The wind stirred Degrienne’s silver hair, brushing across Catherine’s lips.

But the girl in her arms stayed motionless, porcelain and perfect. Not even her lashes fluttered.
The swing slowed.
Catherine’s smile began to fade, a cold sheen creeping into her eyes. “Do you hate me that much? You won’t even give me the courtesy of a reaction?”

She suddenly seized Degrienne’s chin, yanking her face around.
“Look at me!” Her voice cracked with anger. “You think your silence will make me give up?”
Degrienne’s gaze finally focused—but her lips stayed closed.

And her eyes… that calm, empty look… like she was staring at a stranger.
Catherine’s fingers tightened. Degrienne’s pale neck felt so fragile beneath her hand, it seemed it could snap at the slightest pressure.
“Why won’t you answer me?”

Her voice dropped to a growl, fury and hurt swirling in her eyes. “Speak! Beg if you must, curse me if you dare—”
Her nails bit into the delicate skin. “Just stop looking at me like that!”
Degrienne’s eyes rolled back, breath caught in her throat—but still she clenched her jaw, refusing to make a sound.

That silence—more than any scream or insult—stabbed deeper than anything else.
“…Fine. Very well.” Catherine suddenly let go, yanking her tight into an embrace.
“Isabella.” Her voice was cold.

From the shadows, the personal maid stepped forth. “Mistress.”
“Gather all the maids. Bring them to the rear courtyard.”
Catherine stood, pressing Degrienne down onto the swing. “Do whatever it takes—”

She looked down at that lifeless face. “When I return, I want to see a living girl. One who can laugh. One who can cry.”
As Catherine’s heels echoed into the distance, fourteen maids formed a silent circle around the swing, quietly discussing how to bring Degrienne back from her numb stupor.