The morning sun streamed through the window of the hospital room, casting warm light across the white sheets and pale walls. It was gentle light, soft light, the kind that promised a new day and new beginnings. Inside the room there was a girl. She lay in the bed. Her eyes were open. She was watching the boy who slept next to her.
Elena looked at Leo. He was seated on the wooden chair he had pulled close to her bed, his arms folded on the mattress, his head resting on them. He had fallen asleep like that sometime during the night, his body curved protectively toward her, his breathing slow and regular. Her hand rested lightly on his hair, her fingers tangled gently in the dark strands. She had been running them through his hair without thinking, a small, tender gesture that felt natural and right.
A small smile touched her lips. Seeing him like this, caring for her so deeply, sleeping beside her to make sure she was safe—it made her happy. It made her feel loved in a way she had not felt since her parents died. But beneath that happiness, a worry stirred, restless and persistent.
Her wounds would take time to heal. Days, maybe one week. The doctors had said so. And when she finally left this hospital, when she went home to face Aunt Jenna, there would be questions. Jenna would see the injuries. She would worry, panic, and demand to know what had happened. And Leo had already lied to her on the phone, saying Elena was staying at his house, safe and sound. How could they explain this?
Then there was Leo himself. Who he was. What he told her the night before. She believed him now. After she saw him walk out of that fire, after she watched him hold two vampires in the air with just his hands, there was no more room for doubt in her heart. He was exactly what he said he was. But believing something and understanding it are two different things. Her mind still could not fully take it in. She could not accept that this boy she loved, this boy who slept next to her with his head resting on his own arms, had the powers of Lucifer Morningstar. Or that he was Lucifer Morningstar. The devil himself. It was like knowing a chair is a chair, but then one day the chair gets up and walks across the room. You see it, you know it happened, but your mind keeps telling you it cannot be true.
The morning light continued its slow advance across the room. It reached Leo's face, touching his eyelids with gentle warmth. His brow furrowed slightly. His eyes, annoyed at being disturbed, opened slowly.
Elena hurriedly withdrew her hand. A blush crept onto her cheeks, warm and pink. It was silly, she knew. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They had been through so much together, especially last night. There was no reason to be shy about touching him. But the instinct was there, automatic, the reflex of a girl caught in a private moment.
Leo stretched slowly, his arms extending, his back straightening. He did not notice the red on her cheeks. His mind was still waking, still shifting from sleep to alertness.
"How was your health, Elena?" he asked. His voice was a little rough from sleep, but gentle.
Elena pushed her hair back behind her ear, a small gesture to compose herself. "Far better than yesterday," she said. It was true. The blood loss had been addressed. The injuries were healing. She felt weak, but alive.
Leo smiled. "That's good to hear in this new morning."
Elena hesitated. The worry was still there, pressing against her ribs, demanding to be spoken. Should she tell him? Should she burden him with more problems after everything he had already done?
Leo was about to ask if she wanted breakfast. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he saw her expression. There was conflict in her eyes, uncertainty, something she was holding back. His own expression shifted immediately to concern.
"Is something bothering you, Elena?" he asked quickly.
She looked at him. For a moment, she considered saying no, brushing it off, handling it herself. But she could not. The worry was too big to keep inside.
"Actually, Leo," she said. "I am worried about how we will face my aunt. We already lied to her yesterday on the phone. She thinks I am at your house, safe and fine. But when I go home like this..." She gestured at herself, at the hospital gown, at the injuries beneath it. "She will see. She will ask questions. She will panic."
Leo put a finger on her lips, gently, stopping the flow of words. He looked into her eyes, his own gaze calm and steady.
"Nothing is going to happen, Elena," he said. "We will find a way. Okay?"
She looked into his calm eyes. The worry did not disappear, but it softened, eased by the certainty in his voice. She nodded.
He removed his finger. His chin dropped into his hand, his head tilting down as he began to think. He had missed this point last night when he called Jenna. In the moment, relieved that Elena was alive and safe, he had not considered the long-term consequences. Now those consequences were here, demanding a solution.
Elena watched him think. She also began to think, her own finger coming up to rest on her chin, mirroring his posture unconsciously. Two minds, searching for a way out of a problem that seemed impossible.
Leo's eyes wandered around the room, looking for inspiration, for anything that might spark an idea. They passed over the window, the door, the small bathroom in the corner. Then they fell on the table beside the bed.
A blood bag sat there. Clear tubing. Red liquid. The remnants of the transfusion that had saved her life last night.
His eyes sparkled.
Then an idea came to him, all of a sudden. There was only one real way to fix this. If Elena was completely fine. If her injuries were all healed. Then she could go back home and Jenna would not see anything wrong. There would be no questions, no panic, no having to make up stories to explain things.
But how could she get completely healed? Regular medicine would take days, maybe weeks. She needed something faster. Something with more power.
His blood.
He had the power of Lucifer Morningstar in him. His blood was not like other people's blood. It had power inside it, old power, the power that came from a fallen angel.
He looked at Elena. His eyes got bright, shining with this new thought. It was like a door had opened in his mind and he could finally see the way out.
"Elena," he said slowly. "I have an idea."
Elena turned to look at him. Her eyes were bright and curious. "What is it, Leo?"
A smile came back to Leo's face. The worry that was there just a moment ago went away.
"Elena," he said. He spoke slowly so she could follow his thinking. "You remember what I told you yesterday. I have all of Lucifer Morningstar's powers. I am Lucifer Morningstar, in a way. So that means my blood comes from an angel. It is angel blood." He stopped for a moment. He wanted her to understand what he meant. "And angels can heal. In all the stories people tell, in all the old legends, angels have the power to heal. So if you drink my blood, maybe you will heal too. Maybe all your injuries will go away. Just like that."
Elena stared at him for a long time. She thought about what he said. She turned it over in her head. She looked at it from this side and that side. It made sense in a strange way. Not a normal way. But a way that fit with everything she had seen. She saw him walk out of fire. She saw him hold two vampires in the air.
But then a question came into her mind. It was a practical question. It came from watching him walk out of that fire with no burns, no pain, nothing.
"Leo," she said slowly. "Are you sure this is going to work?" She gestured with her hands, trying to shape her confusion into words. "I remember you walking out of that fire like a superhero. Nothing harmed you. Nothing burned you. The flames just... washed over you." She paused, searching for the right way to phrase her concern. "How is this going to work? How will you get your blood out of your body if nothing can hurt you?"
What she meant was simple,even if her words were tangled. If his body was invulnerable, if nothing could cut him or pierce his skin, then how could he bleed? How could he give her his blood if his body refused to be wounded?
Leo heard her words. They were logical, reasonable questions. In his rush to find a solution, he had not thought through the details. He had simply grabbed onto the idea and held it tight. Now he needed to examine it, to understand it, to find the reason behind it.
He thought back. Back to the day he transmigrated into this world. Back to the moment he first realized he had powers. He remembered cutting his palm with a normal kitchen knife, just to test, just to see. And the knife had cut him. The blade had parted his skin, drawn blood, caused pain. But the wound had healed in less than a second, closing up as if it had never been there.
Why had the knife cut him, when the fire could not burn him and the wooden stakes could not pierce him?
The answer came to him slowly, forming in his mind.That day, when he cut himself, he had wanted to hurt himself. He had been testing, yes, but there was also a part of him that needed to feel something, to confirm that he was still real, still human in some way. His body had responded to that intent. It had allowed the cut because he willed it, on some level, to happen.
Yesterday, in the fire and during the attack, he had not wanted to be hurt. He had not even considered the possibility. His body, confident in its own power, had simply refused to be harmed. The flames could not touch him because he did not believe they could. The stakes could not pierce him because he knew they were nothing.
It was not just about power. It was about intent. About belief. About the will behind the action.
This made sense. It was logical and the most appropriate reason he could find.
He did not look at Elena as he worked through this. His eyes drifted to the right side of the bed, where a small table stood. On the table sat a fruit basket, the kind hospitals always seemed to have, full of apples and oranges and bananas. In the middle of the basket, half hidden by an apple, was a knife. A small knife, the kind used for cutting fruit.
He reached out and picked it up.
Elena saw the movement. Her eyes widened. "Leo, this—" she started.
But Leo had already made his decision. He pressed the blade against the skin of his finger. He thought the same thought he had thought that first day: I want to hurt myself. I want to see. The blade pressed deeper. The skin parted. A thin line of red appeared, blood welling up from the small wound.
It worked. The knife had cut him. Just like before.
Leo turned toward Elena. The wound on his finger was already healing, the edges pulling together, the bleeding slowing. He did not hesitate. He did not give her time to argue or question or doubt.
"Elena," he said. "Open your mouth."
Before she could respond, before she could say a single word, he brought his finger to her lips and pushed it gently inside her mouth. She tasted metal, salt, warmth. His blood touched her tongue, warm and strange, tasting of copper and something else, something ancient and powerful.
.....
Leave power stones and reviews.
On our Patreon, we're already 15 chapters ahead of everyone else!🏃💨
Come to Patreon,Baby 😘
Don't get left behind farming in the newbie village while we're already dominating the endgame content! 👑🔥
👉 Patreon-Beyblade245
It's time to jump the queue and get that VIP treatment. Your throne is waiting~ 💎