THE SPOILED HYBRID.🧛 (MXM) - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

After Alessia had finished telling Drake everything, the two of them were now cuddled up in Alessia’s bed, the soft blue comforter wrapped around them like a cocoon. The room was warm and quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. Alessia’s head rested on Drake’s chest, his fingers absently tracing patterns on Drake’s shirt. For the first time in weeks, Alessia felt at peace. Drake knew the truth, and he hadn’t run away. He was still here, holding him, and that was all that mattered.
But as the minutes passed, a burning issue began to gnaw at Alessia. He shifted slightly, turning to look up at Drake with wide, innocent eyes. “Drake?” he said softly, his voice tinged with a hint of hesitation.
“Hmm?” Drake hummed, his fingers gently running through Alessia’s black hair.
“Can you… feed me?” Alessia asked, his tone so casual it was almost comical.
Drake blinked, his hand stilling in Alessia’s hair. “Feed you what?” he asked, confused. “You said your house doesn’t have any food.”
Alessia sat up slightly, his green eyes glowing with a mix of hunger and something else—something that made Drake’s stomach twist. “I know,” Alessia said, his voice still soft but now laced with a hint of mischief. “But I want to feed on your blood.”
Drake’s eyes widened, and he sat up so quickly that Alessia nearly tumbled off the bed. “What?!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. “You want to *what*?!”
Alessia pouted, his lower lip trembling as he looked up at Drake with glossy, pleading eyes. “But you said you’re not afraid of me,” he whined, his voice taking on a petulant tone. “Let me feed on you. Please?”
Drake stared at him, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words. “I—I never said you could drink my blood!” he finally managed to say, his voice rising in pitch. “That’s… that’s not what I signed up for!”
Alessia’s pout deepened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a child who had just been told they couldn’t have dessert. “But why?” he asked, his voice trembling with genuine hurt. “I’m hungry. And your blood… it smells so good. I’ve been craving it for weeks.”
Drake’s jaw dropped, his mind racing as he tried to process what was happening. Alessia’s eyes were now filled with tears, his bottom lip quivering as he looked up at Drake with the most pitiful expression Drake had ever seen. He looked so wronged, so heartbroken, that for a moment, Drake almost felt guilty.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” Drake stammered, running a hand through his hair. “This is… this is a lot.”
Alessia sniffled, his tears now streaming down his cheeks. “You’ll feel good,” he said, his voice soft and pleading. “I promise. It won’t hurt. And you’ll like it. Please, Drake?”
Drake stared at him, his mind spinning. He had no idea how to handle this. Alessia was crying, whining, and throwing a full-blown tantrum because Drake wouldn’t let him drink his blood. It was surreal, like something out of a bizarre dream.
“I’m calling your sister,” Drake said finally, his voice firm but tinged with panic. He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the comforter in his haste. “And the moment she gets here, I’m leaving.”
Alessia’s eyes widened, and he let out a dramatic wail, flopping back onto the bed. “Nooo! Don’t leave! I just want a little taste!”
Drake ignored him, rushing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He flung open the fridge, his hands trembling as he searched for something—anything—that could satisfy Alessia’s hunger. His eyes landed on a glass container filled with a dark red liquid. Blood. It had to be blood. He grabbed it and hurried back to the bedroom, holding it out like a peace offering.
“Here,” he said, his voice slightly breathless. “Drink this. It’s blood, right? You can have this.”
Alessia sat up, his tear-streaked face lighting up for a moment before he saw what Drake was holding. His expression immediately soured, and he crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head away. “I don’t want that,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “I want *yours*.”
Drake groaned, running a hand over his face. “Alessia, I’m not a juice box!” he said, his voice rising in frustration. “You can’t just—ugh, I’m calling your sister.”
As Drake pulled out his phone, Alessia let out another dramatic wail, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re so mean!” he cried, his voice muffled by the comforter. “I just wanted a little sip!”
Drake stared at him, torn between exasperation and the strange urge to laugh. This was not how he had imagined their relationship going. But then again, nothing about Alessia was ordinary. And somehow, despite the chaos, Drake couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
Alessia lay sprawled across his sister’s chest, his face buried in her shoulder as he sulked. His green eyes were downcast, his lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. “He ran,” he whined, his voice muffled against Alysa’s shirt. “I only wanted a sip. Just a little sip.”
Alysa sighed, running a hand through her brother’s messy black hair. She had seen this behavior before—Alessia was a spoiled child at heart, used to getting everything he wanted. The word “no” was practically foreign to him, and rejection was something he simply couldn’t comprehend. When he didn’t get his way, he threw tantrums until someone gave in. And right now, he was in full tantrum mode.
“You can’t just spring that on Drake,” Alysa said, her tone firm but gentle. She couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy. Drake had been thrown into a world of vampires, hybrids, and hidden kingdoms, and now he was being asked to donate his blood like some kind of snack. “He’s still processing everything. You can’t expect him to be okay with you drinking his blood right away.”
Alessia lifted his head slightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But he said he loves me the way I am,” he protested, his voice trembling. “And now I’m hungry, and he ran away. He’s so mean.”
Alysa rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Her brother was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. “Here,” she said, reaching for a small glass filled with a dark red liquid. “Take a sip of this. It’s still warm.”
Alessia eyed the glass suspiciously but took it anyway, his pout softening slightly as he sipped the blood. It wasn’t what he really wanted, but it would do for now. “But I want to taste *his*,” he whined after finishing the glass, his voice taking on that petulant tone again.
Alysa sighed, her sharp amber eyes narrowing as she studied her brother. She knew exactly how to handle him. “Okay,” she said, her tone conspiratorial. “I know the best time you can drink his blood without him knowing.”
Alessia’s eyes lit up, his sulky expression replaced by one of eager excitement. “How?” he asked, leaning in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
Alysa smirked, her tone playful but firm. “Finish this first,” she said, holding up another glass of blood. “Then I’ll tell you.”
Alessia didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one go, his eyes never leaving Alysa’s face. “Okay, tell me!” he said, his voice filled with anticipation.
Alysa leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Try it when you and Drake are… intimate,” she said, her tone sly. “When he’s lost in the moment, caught up in the pleasure, he won’t even notice.”
Alessia’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “Alysa!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and excitement. “That’s… that’s genius!”
Alysa chuckled, ruffling her brother’s hair. “Just don’t overdo it,” she warned. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t tell him I gave you the idea.”
Alessia nodded eagerly, his earlier sulkiness completely forgotten. He was already imagining the perfect moment, his mind racing with possibilities. For the first time since Drake had run out of the room, Alessia felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could get what he wanted after all.