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Unfortunately for Grendel, he was still looking behind him and didn't see what was about to happen. He didn't even process what was happening until he felt it, and he hissed, eyes going pitch black.

He attempted to jerk his arm back, shoving at Ravnos's shoulder with his free hand.

"Stop." He growled the sharp command, hoping that would be enough to get through to the Disciple.

Well, that didn't work. Despite his initial surprise, Grendel tried to remain calm, and not think too much about what was happening, and what the implications might be. Because honestly? He had no ******** idea.

This wasn't knowledge that had been passed down to him by dear old Dad. There was no magical handbook with answers written in it.

The harder he tried to pull away, the more determined to hold on Ravnos seemed to get. Growling in frustration, Grendel tried to think through his options.

Most of them involved killing the Disciple right on the spot, but he was kind of hoping it wouldn't need to come to that.

Muttering something guttural under his breath, Grendel shoved his free hand against Ravnos's head and attempted to get into his mind, fighting against the bloodthirsty beast that had taken control.

Dracian. Stop.

He felt the give not long after he had managed to break through the barrier of Ravnos's mind. It may have helped that he had already taken a peek in there once or twice before, making it slightly easier to navigate even now. Soon, his arm was free, and Grendel cradled it to his chest, the area that had been bitten burning painfully.

The fact that Ravnos would not even meet his eyes seemed to sting more.


"Ravnos." He said, suddenly very annoyed. Why wouldn't he look at him? He moved toward the Disciple and stopped very near him.

"You just drank from me, and not some small amount. I need to know, how are you feeling? Anything...odd? New power? Strength?"

A small pause.

"You don't feel like you're going to explode, do you?" He felt like maybe he'd heard of that happening somewhere before....

Oh. That was…good? Unexpected, slightly disappointing, but…good.

Still, Grendel frowned at the disciple.

”Was I at least delicious?”

That one-word answer muttered in shame was all the young God needed, and though he had more questions, he also knew that Ravnos was not the one who could provide him with the answers. As long as the disciple was okay, and feeling well; that was all the God felt the need to concern himself with.

For all of his moodiness, his impulsive and often times wreckless behaviour, Grendel knew what it was like to lose control, and regret it later. He did not blame Ravnos for what happened just now. In fact, he took responsibility for it himself. He flexed his arm, feeling that stinging, burning sensation begin to fade.

Wait, he did have one more question. "Any new, strong or intense attraction towards me?" He was still inspecting his arm, marvelling at how easily Ravnos had managed to pierce his flesh, though the pain was nearly gone now, the bite mark barely even visible.

To say that Ravnos's actions were unexpected was an understatement. Grendel's eyes moved sharply to Ravnos's face at the gentle caress of fingers along his jawline. He had a moment to wonder if this was meant to be an answer to the question he had posed and felt that it must be and that the answer was an unmistakable yes.

Time held suspended in front of him, slowed. He had a chance to stop this, now that he knew what was coming, and he knew that he should. He was a God. He had been reminded, over and over again, that his place was with the Gods, overseeing the actions of those beneath them, always separate unless there was good reason to intervene. He wasn't meant to dally around with vampires and miscreants (Ravnos managed to fit both of those categories). He wasn't meant to feel the things that he felt for them. Lust. That had been his worst crime. It led to him siring b*****d children not once, but three separate times. They were proof of his weakness. They were his shame. He hadn't seen it that way, at the time, but the more it was beaten into him, the more he saw that it was true.

And yet, how easy to fall back into old habits? To just give in to everything he had been trying so hard to suppress? He knew he wanted this, it called out to every fibre of his being. The only thin tendril that held him back now was the thought that his blood was the cause of it, that this wasn't really Ravnos behaving this way.

Still, he didn't stop it. He was as weak as his Father said he was. Nothing but a disappointment at every turn. Maybe this time, when he came back, he really would strip Grendel of his domain.

He felt Ravnos's lips against his, and he tasted the sharp mixture of blood and cloves and something sweeter. He lifted a hand up to the back of the Disciple's head, fingers entangling in dark hair, and kissed him back, revelling in something that he had been wanting for so long.

When the kiss ended, it was too soon. Grendel's eyes had gone dark, and he licked his lips, the words Ravnos spoke barely filtering through a heady haze of longing and desire.

"So why are you stopping? His voice was deep and rough, hardly more than a growl, and he pulled Ravnos back in.

At this point, Grendel didn't honestly care why this was happening. He was finished overanalyzing this situation. He was gone, lost in a tide of fervour, drowning in it, and feeling Ravnos's body against his, those lips on his, that was all that was keeping him grounded and from completely losing control.

The bite at his lips was met with an appreciative sound, and Grendel broke away first this time, but only to run kisses along the vampire's jaw, tugging his head back with the hand still balled up in his hair before moving down his neck, each kiss emphasized with a little shock of power. He nipped at the flesh there just hard enough for Ravnos to feel it, but not to break the skin. His free hand tugged at the Disciple's shirt, trying to get beneath it, his need to feel every part of Ravnos taking over.

Doing all of this in an alleyway wasn't exactly ideal, but he could make it work.

Grendel had no real intention to stop and would have happily continued on uninterrupted. He was enjoying every reaction he elicited from the Disciple whose neck he was currently accosting, working his way down to a collarbone, which earned another "gentle" bite.

He hummed in annoyance against Ravno's chest when he spoke. Maybe he would have been better to keep that mouth occupied. Straightening, he looked the Disciple dead in the eyes, letting him see how they had darkened a deep red, almost black, but glowing softy with lust.

"Very well." He grumbled and snapped his fingers. A loud whooshing sound would fill their ears, as though a heavy wind had whipped up in a sudden frenzy. Their surroundings blurred, and when it cleared, they stood in the middle of the inside of Ravnons's wagon, which rocked a bit with their sudden arrival.

Grendel had to close his eyes against a sudden wave of dizziness, and slumped forward, his hand going to the Disciples shoulder for support. That...had never happened before. He could only imagine it had something to do with having a decent portion of his blood drained.

The feeling passed, and his eyes opened once more. "The Crusnik will have to wait." He said, pulling Ravnos towards the beaded curtain.

He was in no position to deal with them (if that's really what they needed to deal with) right now anyways.