MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Blake swayed unsteadily on his feet, grateful for Elena's support as she gripped his arm firmly. He could see the concern etched into her features, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"I... I was exploring the art cave," Blake began, his voice hoarse with pain as he struggled to find his words. "I slipped and hit my head on a rock. It's nothing serious, just a scratch."

Elena's brow furrowed in disbelief, her lips parting as though she were about to protest. But then, as if sensing his urgency, she nodded, her expression softening with understanding.

"Let's get you inside and take a look at that wound," she said gently, guiding Blake towards the porch. "We'll get you cleaned up and make sure you're okay."

Elena's voice cut through the night air with a sharp edge, commanding and authoritative as she called out to her aide, Drake, with a growl of urgency.

"Drake, quickly, come help me!" she exclaimed, her tone laced with a palpable sense of panic.

As Drake rushed to her side, his eyes widened at the sight of Blake's bloodied form. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Elena's voice rang out with a steely resolve.

"Do not waste time with unnecessary questions," she snapped, her words clipped and precise. "Fetch the medical supplies at once. We need to tend to Blake's injuries immediately."

Drake hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Elena's sudden shift in demeanor. But with a swift nod, he turned on his heel and hurried off to retrieve the necessary supplies.

Elena turned her attention back to Blake, her expression softening slightly as she assessed his condition. "You'll be alright," she said, her voice now calm and reassuring. "We'll take care of you."

But beneath her composed exterior, Elena's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns. The incident with Blake had thrown their carefully laid plans into disarray, and she knew that they needed to act swiftly to mitigate any potential fallout.

Elena's eyes flashed with a fierce anger as she watched Drake rush to fetch the medical supplies. The urgency of the situation weighed heavily on her, and she could feel her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

"Hurry, Drake," she commanded, her voice low and menacing. "If you delay even for a moment longer, I will have your head on a spike."

Drake paled at the severity of Elena's threat, understanding the gravity of the situation. Without another word, he redoubled his efforts, sprinting towards the supply room with newfound urgency.

Meanwhile, Elena wasted no time in attending to Blake, her movements swift and purposeful as she guided him to a nearby bed. With gentle care, she helped him to lie down, her keen eyes assessing the wound on the back of his head with a practiced scrutiny.

The sight of the blood-soaked shirt and the gash on Blake's head made Elena's heart race with apprehension. But she pushed aside her own fears, focusing instead on the task at hand.

As she examined the wound, her mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and calculations. The severity of Blake's injury was unclear, and she knew that every moment was crucial in determining his fate.

With practiced efficiency, Elena set to work cleaning and treating Blake's wound, her movements steady and sure as she focused on the task at hand.

First, she carefully inspected the wound, noting its depth and severity. Using sterile gloves and medical supplies retrieved by Drake, she gently cleansed the area around the wound with antiseptic solution, ensuring that any dirt or debris was removed to prevent infection.

Next, Elena applied a generous amount of antibiotic ointment to the wound, spreading it evenly to promote healing and ward off potential infection. She then covered the wound with a sterile gauze pad, securing it in place with medical tape to keep it clean and protected.

To further minimize the risk of infection, Elena instructed Drake to fetch a clean bandage and a waterproof covering. With meticulous care, she wrapped the bandage snugly around Blake's head, ensuring that the wound was securely covered and shielded from external contaminants.

Finally, Elena applied a waterproof covering over the bandage, sealing it tightly to provide an additional layer of protection against moisture and bacteria. She checked the dressing one last time, ensuring that it was secure and properly applied before stepping back to assess her handiwork.

Satisfied with her efforts, Elena nodded in approval, her expression softened with relief as she glanced down at Blake's still form. Despite the seriousness of his injury, she knew that she had done everything in her power to ensure his comfort and well-being.

As she stood beside the bed, a sense of quiet determination settled over Elena. She knew that their ordeal was far from over, but for now, she took solace in the knowledge that she had done her part to care for Blake and protect him from further harm.

After meticulously tending to Blake's wound, Elena's brow furrowed in concern as she observed his still form, uncertain whether he was merely asleep or had succumbed to unconsciousness. Carefully, she adjusted his position on the bed, ensuring his comfort before proceeding to wash the blood from her hands, her movements deliberate and methodical.

Once her hands were cleansed, Elena summoned Drake to the beach area, where she stood with a stoic expression, her gaze fixed upon the restless waves crashing against the shore.

When Drake returned, his face a mask of trepidation, Elena's features hardened, her eyes piercing as she questioned him about the events leading to Blake's injury.

"Drake," she began, her voice laced with restrained anger, "do you know what truly transpired with Blake?"

Drake nodded, his own expression tense with apprehension as he confirmed Blake's account of the altercation.

Elena's frown deepened, her patience waning as she seized Drake by the throat with a sudden, violent motion. In an instant, her eyes blazed crimson, a stark contrast to the cool facade she typically maintained.

"You incompetent fool," she seethed, her voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. "Explain to me why you failed to intervene. Why did you not act to prevent this altercation?"

Drake struggled to respond, his words stifled by Elena's vice-like grip. Despite his attempts to explain, she tightened her hold, her anger palpable in the air around them.

With a swift motion, Elena flung Drake away from her, the force of her action sending him tumbling several feet before he regained his footing. He rushed back to her side, his demeanor one of contrition as he knelt before her, begging for forgiveness.

As Drake rushed back to Elena's side, his movements frantic and desperate, he fell to his knees before her, his head bowed in a display of submission. With trembling hands, he clasped at Elena's feet, his voice trembling as he began to beg for forgiveness.

"Oh, my lord," Drake pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. "I am but a lowly servant, unworthy of your grace and favor. I beg for your mercy, for I have failed you in my duties."

His words were punctuated by sobs of genuine remorse, his shoulders trembling with the weight of his shame. "Forgive me, my lord," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am nothing but a worthless worm, unfit to stand in your presence."

Drake's words were laced with self-deprecation, his tone filled with reverence and adulation for his lord. He praised Elena with fervent devotion, extolling her virtues and singing her praises in a fervent display of loyalty.

"Your wisdom is unmatched, my lord," he proclaimed, his voice rising in fervor. "Your strength is beyond the scope of my small knowledge. I am unworthy to serve you, but I swear on my life that I will devote myself to your service until my dying breath."

With each word, Drake's fervor grew, his desperation to earn Elena's forgiveness evident in every syllable. He beseeched her with fervent pleas, his words a testament to his unwavering loyalty and devotion to his lord and master.

Elena regarded him with a mixture of disdain and disappointment, her features softening slightly at his display of loyalty. Though her anger had not abated entirely, she relented, allowing him to plead for forgiveness as he held her feet in a desperate gesture of submission.

With a stern yet composed demeanor, Elena lowered her gaze to meet Drake's pleading eyes. "Rise, Drake," she commanded, her voice cutting through the air with authority. "You have begged for forgiveness, and I have granted it. But know this: your failure will not be forgotten."

As Drake scrambled to his feet, Elena's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with determination. "Find the man who dared to harm Blake," she instructed, her voice tinged with a dangerous edge. "Bring him to me, personally. I want him to answer for his actions."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in before delivering her final warning. "If you fail in this task," she continued, her tone low and menacing, "you will have no place in my future plans. And believe me, Drake, that is a fate far worse than any punishment I could mete out."

With a dismissive gesture, Elena turned away, her attention already drifting back to the ocean beyond. "Go," she commanded, her voice firm. "Do not return until you have accomplished your task."