The Merman, My Man
I promptly held a hand over the incision from which I was bleeding profusely, but my fingers were instantly dyed in blood.
On the other hand, Dicken leaned towards the incision and sniffed, taking in the scent of my blood. He inhaled deeply a few times as his brow furrowed, and pried my blood-soaked fingers away before leaning in, leveling his lips above my wound and licking it to heal it. I felt delight as a ray of hope seemed to sprout, though I was uncertain if my scent was intoxicating the Dicken of the present. However, he would definitely find my scent special because my body carried his bloodline, and nothing would change that—he would never bear letting a special existence like me di