Chloe POV:
I clung to him like a lifeline, greedily soaking up the thin trickle of warmth. But it was like trying to fill an ocean with a teaspoon. The cold in my bones was a deep, persistent ache that the fragile current of energy couldn't erase.
Suddenly, a transparent screen flickered into existence in my mind's eye. It was a clean, minimalist interface, courtesy of the Psychic Imprint. A long, horizontal bar dominated the display. It was glowing a weak, angry red.
Above it, a label read: Life Force: 1%.
A klaxon, silent but mentally deafening, blared through my head.
"Warning: Vitality is below critical threshold. Organ failure will begin in approximately one hour. Urgent energy replenishment is required."
My heart, which was already beating sluggishly, seemed to stutter and fall. One hour. I could feel my body shutting down, the coldness creeping from my fingers and toes towards my core.
"How?" I projected the thought at the system, my voice a desperate plea in my own mind. "How do I supplement?"
On the screen, the image of the man beside me was highlighted with a pulsing red circle. Text appeared next to it.
"Target: Energy anchor. Recommendation: Initiate deep physical contact to establish efficient energy conduction."
I frowned. "Deep physical contact? I'm already hugging him." The absurdity of the situation was almost laughable.
"Current contact efficiency: 0.1% per minute. Projected vitality after one hour: 1.6%. Insufficient to prevent organ failure. A more efficient contact method is required."
The system, ever helpful, then displayed a series of small, clinical diagrams. The first showed two hands, palms pressed together. The second, a full-body embrace, which I was already doing.
And the third... the third was an unmistakable icon of two pairs of lips meeting.
A flush of heat, entirely unrelated to the energy transfer, crept up my neck. "Damn system!" I cursed internally.
I looked down at his face. He was completely vulnerable, his features smoothed out in unconsciousness. The logical, surgical part of my brain saw it as a procedure. A necessary step for survival. But the other part of me, the part that was still just a girl who had never even been kissed, recoiled. Kissing a stranger? A man who had tried to strangle me just minutes ago? It felt violating. Wrong.
As if on cue, a low groan of pain escaped his lips. His body began to twitch, a small seizure racking his powerful frame. The black, curse-like markings on his chest flared, glowing with a malevolent red light.
The tiny thread of warmth flowing into me was severed.
My own body immediately felt the loss. The cold returned with a vengeance. I glanced at the interface in my mind. The number was ticking down.
Life Force: 0.9%.
The shadow of death, which had briefly receded, was now looming directly over me. It was a physical presence, a cold weight pressing down on my chest.
I clenched my jaw, the sound of my teeth grinding loud in the quiet forest. "Hammer, my ass," I muttered, the phrase a strange comfort. "For survival..."
There was no more time for hesitation.
I pushed myself up on one elbow, my movements stiff and clumsy. I cupped his face with my hands. His skin was burning, a dry, feverish heat that spoke of a body at war with itself.
I leaned down, squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my lips to his.
The world exploded.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a connection. The moment our lips touched, a dam broke. A roaring flood of pure, warm energy surged from him into me. It was overwhelming, a tidal wave of life pouring into a desert. Every cell in my body, starved and dying, screamed in ecstasy. It was better than warmth, better than food. It was life itself.
I watched in stunned amazement as the bar on my mental display skyrocketed.
Life Force: 2%... 5%... 10%!
The feeling was so intensely pleasurable, so profoundly comforting, that a soft moan escaped my throat.
But my salvation was his torment.
As the energy poured out of him, a guttural roar of pure agony was torn from his throat. His body arched violently, his back lifting off the ground as he thrashed against an unseen enemy. It was as if I was siphoning his very soul, and the process was burning him alive.
