The wounds on his face instantly began healing at a terrifying pace, the slightly torn flesh stitching itself back together almost visibly.
Bruised skin smoothened, and cracked flesh regenerated.
Until only his pale skin remained once more, stained by his own blood where the wounds were present before.
Crimson drops dripped down his chin and onto Vivienne's wrist, wrapped around his throat.
For a brief moment, Lucian considered struggling, trying to pry her hand away and free himself, but the thought vanished almost instantly the moment he remembered that the woman standing before him was an S-rank vampire.
He knew he stood absolutely no chance, and the gap between them was far too absurd for him to do anything that could even harm her.
Through his blurred vision, he could even faintly see the smile on Vivienne's face falter a bit.
Because—
