Victor really tried to pull away.

His first movement was instinctive, almost automatic, his hand rising to Natasha’s shoulder with the clear intention of pushing, of creating at least a few centimeters of space between them. But it didn’t work. Not because he lacked strength, but because there simply wasn’t room to push. She was clinging to him in an absurd way, her arms locked around his torso as if they were part of his very body structure.

He pushed harder.

Nothing.

Natasha not only didn’t let go, but reacted to his movement in a completely unexpected way. Instead of resisting rigidly, she adjusted even more, her body molding to his with a disconcerting naturalness, as if that proximity was exactly where she should be.

"—Okay, no, wait a minute," murmured Victor, now clearly more alert, trying to understand what was happening as he leaned slightly back, searching for an angle that would make it easier to get her off him.

It didn’t help.

On the contrary.

Natasha followed the movement effortlessly, maintaining contact, her face still close to his chest, her eyes half-closed as if absorbing something there. Her body moved subtly, almost unconsciously, rubbing lightly against him in a gesture that didn’t seem calculated, but wasn’t neutral either.

It was... instinctive.

And that only made the situation worse.

Victor froze for a split second, completely taken aback by the behavior.

"What—" he began, but didn’t finish.

Because she squeezed tighter.

Her fingers dug lightly into his back, the embrace becoming even tighter as her body trembled slightly, as if reacting to something internal he couldn’t see.

"Master..." she murmured again, now with a slightly heavier tone, almost like a relieved sigh.

Victor blinked twice in quick succession, his brain clearly trying to keep up with the situation and failing miserably.

"No, no, no, no," he said, now trying again to push her away, this time using more of his body than just his arms, twisting his torso slightly to see if he could break the grip.

Nothing.

She simply adjusted herself.

Like glue.

"What the hell is this?" he blurted out, no longer hiding his confusion.

Natasha didn’t respond logically.

She just moved again, her face sliding slightly against his chest, as if searching for a more comfortable position, her body still pressed intensely against his. The gesture resembled something much closer to an animal seeking closeness than a rational action.

And this became even more evident when she let out a small, low, almost imperceptible sound as she settled more comfortably against him.

Victor froze.

For a full second.

"She... is rubbing against me?" he asked, looking straight ahead, as if saying it more to the universe than to any specific person.

The silence behind him answered first.

Serafall stood completely still, a few meters behind, watching the scene with an expression that simply... didn’t suit her. Her face was pale, her gaze fixed, her eyes slightly widened as if she were witnessing something that didn’t make sense.

And, in a way, it didn’t.

Because Natasha—

Natasha was one of the few people Serafall truly respected without reservation. Someone with a rigid, disciplined, even somewhat cold demeanor. Someone with a clear history of disdain for men, especially younger vampires, whom she considered immature, unstable, and, most of the time, useless.

And now—

She was there.

Clinging to Victor.

Calling him "master."

And... rubbing against him.

Serafall blinked once, slowly, as if that would make reality rearrange itself.

It didn’t.

"This... isn’t happening," she murmured, more to herself than to the others, her voice low, almost lifeless.

Beside her, Charlotte had a completely different reaction.

Her eyes gleamed.

Literally.

Not in a supernatural way, but with pure intellectual excitement. The initial shock lasted less than a second before being completely replaced by an almost dangerous scientific excitement.

"This is incredible," she murmured, already taking a step forward, completely ignoring the discomfort of the situation.

Serafall slowly turned her face toward her.

"Incredible?" she repeated, incredulous.

Charlotte didn’t look away from the scene.

"Are you seeing this?" she continued, her voice gaining more energy as she spoke. "Her behavioral response has been completely rewritten! This isn’t just a passive connection with his blood, this is an active reconfiguration of the instinctive system!"

Victor turned his face toward them, still crushed in Natasha’s embrace.

"Charlotte," he called dryly, "I have no idea what you just said, but sort this out."

She raised her hand, as if asking for a second.

"No, no, wait," she said quickly, moving closer, her eyes analyzing every detail. "I need to observe for a few more seconds. This is a unique opportunity."

"I’m not an experiment!" Victor replied immediately.

Natasha squeezed him again mid-sentence.

"Master..." she repeated, this time more softly, as if completely oblivious to the conversation around her.

Victor exhaled sharply.

"I’m going to start charging for this," he murmured, clearly unsure what else to do.

Charlotte was practically beside them now, leaning slightly to better observe Natasha’s behavior, without touching her yet, but clearly analyzing every reaction.

"Her body is responding to his presence as if he were an absolute primary source," she said, more to herself now, her mind racing. "This isn’t just attraction or dependence. This is forced biological hierarchy."

Serafall ran a hand slowly over her face.

"I can’t believe I’m hearing this while she’s... doing this," she said, clearly trying to maintain some level of sanity.

Rakshasa, a few meters away, watched everything in silence.

Rakshasa was no longer just observing.

Until that moment, she had maintained a relatively controlled demeanor, even with everything she was feeling and thinking while watching Victor train. But that specific scene, that absurd proximity, the way Natasha clung to him... it crossed a line she didn’t even know existed within herself.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

The smile that had been curious disappeared.

Replaced by something more direct.

More... possessive.

She followed Natasha’s every movement, every adjustment of her body, every time she pressed herself closer to Victor, as if she were somehow absorbing him. And the worst part wasn’t even the physical contact itself. It was the naturalness of it. The way Natasha did it without hesitation, without thinking, without asking.

As if she had the right.

Rakshasa exhaled slowly through her nose.

"...What the hell is this," she murmured, softly, but with a different weight now.

Victor was still trying to resolve the situation, clearly without success, while Charlotte continued analyzing as if she were facing a revolutionary scientific discovery, and Serafall tried to accept that this reality existed.

But Rakshasa was no longer interested in observing.

It... bothered her.

In a direct way.

Raw.

She slowly uncrossed her legs, the calm movement contrasting with the evident tension in her body. Natasha’s gaze never left her, as if she were measuring, evaluating, judging every detail of that interaction.

"This was supposed to be with me," she said, now in a low tone, but firm enough to carry intention.

No one answered.

Even Victor didn’t hear properly.

But she had already made her decision.

Rakshasa stood up.

The movement was simple, unhurried, but full of purpose. Each step she took towards the two seemed calculated, firm, direct, without any hesitation. The ground beneath her feet barely made a sound, but her presence... that was impossible to ignore.

Charlotte noticed first.

"Ah," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, curious to see what would come next.

Serafall also noticed, her gaze shifting slightly, as if anticipating trouble.

Victor only noticed when it was too late.

Rakshasa stopped beside them.

And then—

She simply extended her hand.

Without warning. No speech.

Her fingers gripped Natasha’s collar with precision, firm enough to completely sever contact. There was no difficulty. There was no initial resistance, because Natasha simply hadn’t expected it.

The next movement was immediate.

Rakshasa pulled.

And threw.

Natasha was ripped from Victor’s body in a single, swift movement, her body hurled several meters back before hitting the ground with a heavy impact, raising dust at the point of impact.

The sound was short.

Direct.

No exaggeration.

But enough to completely cut through the previous moment.

Victor stood still for half a second, his arms still in the position where Natasha had been before, as if his brain was trying to process what had just happened.

He blinked.

Looked ahead.

Then to the side.

"...Okay," he said, completely lost, "that solved one problem and created another."

Rakshasa didn’t respond to him. She was already looking directly at Natasha, who was still on the ground, beginning to move after the impact. Her gaze was cold, direct, without any trace of doubt or hesitation.

"Mine," Rakshasa said.

Simple.

Direct.

Without raising her voice.

But loaded with an authority that left no room for interpretation.

"Get lost."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows slightly, clearly interested in the change of dynamic.

Serafall just watched, still processing everything.

Victor opened his mouth to say something—

And didn’t have time.

Because Rakshasa turned back to him.

And did exactly the same thing.

Without asking.

Without warning.

She simply took a step forward, closing the distance Natasha had left, and wrapped her arms around Victor, pulling him to her with the same intensity she had just rejected.

The impact was almost the same.

Only now reversed.

Victor froze.

Again.

"...Oh no," he murmured immediately, already anticipating disaster. Rakshasa didn’t seem at all concerned about it.

Her body pressed firmly against his, her arms wrapping around his back as she pressed her own body against his, without any attempt to soften the gesture. It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t shy.

It was direct.

Almost competitive.

As if proving a point.

Her face was close to his shoulder, her breathing still slightly irregular, but more controlled than before.

"Better like this," she murmured softly, almost satisfied.

Victor stiffened completely for a full second.

"This isn’t any better," he replied immediately.

Rakshasa ignored him.

She adjusted her position slightly, pressing a little harder, as if testing his reaction, feeling his presence more concretely now. Unlike Natasha, she was fully aware of what she was doing.

And that made everything more... complicated.

Charlotte took another step forward, clearly fascinated. "Interesting," she commented, crossing her arms as she analyzed. "Two completely different responses to the same basic stimulus. One instinctive, the other... deliberate."

Serafall let out a heavy sigh.

"I lost control of this situation at some point," she said, running a hand through her hair.

On the floor, Natasha was already beginning to stand.

The movement was slower than before, not out of weakness, but because there was now something different in her gaze. The connection was still there, evident, but now mixed with something more... confusing.

She looked ahead.

She saw Rakshasa.

She saw Victor.

And the proximity between them.

Her body tensed.

Victor noticed this out of the corner of his eye. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"...Ah, great," he murmured. "Now there’s rivalry."

Rakshasa noticed it too.

And her smile returned.

Small.

Sharp.

"If you want to try again," she said, without letting go of Victor, her gaze fixed on Natasha, "try better."

Charlotte literally leaned forward slightly, as if watching a live experiment about to go off the rails.

Serafall closed her eyes for a second.

"I’ll pretend this is your problem," she murmured.

Victor, still caught in the embrace, looked up at the sky.

"I just wanted to practice," he said, defeated.