Chapter 286: The First Daywalker

V's breath caught sharply in her throat.

"Daywalker?" she echoed, eyes wide with disbelief, heart slamming against her ribcage. "As in...?"

"As in exactly what you're imagining, my sweet child," Morgana purred, her voice dripping with dark promise, yet tender as velvet. "A Vampire creature of darkness yet, powerful enough to walk in the sun and bring your tormentors to their knees."

The goddess leaned even closer, until her breath—warm, sweet, intoxicating—brushed against V's parted lips.

"But understand," Morgana continued softly, her crimson eyes boring into V's honey-brown ones, "once you cross this line, there's no turning back. Your humanity will fade, and what you were will become only a distant memory. You will forever be mine, forever by my side, immortal and feared...free from fear and sorrow...my eternal treasure."

V swallowed hard, the heat pooling low in her belly. Her mind raced, torn between fear, excitement, confusion, and a hunger for vengeance so strong she could taste it.

She thought of the organization that had robbed her of any semblance of childhood, family, or love. They'd taken everything from her by not allowing her to have anything in the first place, forcing her into a brutal life of bloodshed and loneliness. The thought of crushing them, making them pay—it was intoxicating. But becoming something else entirely...

Was that price too steep?

Because of her training and her hidden nature, V was always good at reading people, able to 'feel' their intent—bad ones mostly. She saw right through people, and yet here right in front of her was someone whom she couldn't get a hold of. Her body responded instinctively to every gesture, every touch, every word, and V didn't know why she felt like that.

'Ah!... I see.' Suddenly something clicked in her mind when she played back her entire encounter with Morgana from start to finish. 'She genuinely cared about me.'

Morgana didn't trick her into anything. She was kind, generous, and sweet. Her words, the gentle affection, and the helping hand without asking for anything in return. It all felt true. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, V didn't have to watch her back. No knives were ready to cut her in the dark. No one whispered of betrayal and no one threatened her, and V knew that this person, this powerful woman, would never hurt her, never use or betray her. She wouldn't lose a thing, only gain.

'Like a mother,' the realization hit her. This person wasn't someone aiming for her weakness. This woman wanted her as a daughter.

'Mom.'

"You don't have to answer me right now." Morgana, sensing her hesitation, gently cupped V's cheek. "Take your time."

"..." V was about to say something but Morgana spoke again.

"Remember one thing, V..." the silver-haired goddess kept her words soft and gentle, despite how serious they were. "I'll always be right by your side. I won't leave you alone, ever. My love for you will never be in vain."

"So you must seek what your heart truly desires."

"!!!" V's throat tightened, her body trembling, not from fear, but from the overwhelming, almost unbearable wave of emotion crashing through her.

No one had ever said anything like that to her.

Not the cold instructors with their barked orders.

Not the mission handlers who treated her like a disposable tool.

Not the world that had looked right through her, like she was some ghost wandering without a fucking place to haunt.

And here Morgana was—this divine, devastating force of nature—offering her not commands, not chains, but love. The kind of love V had never even dared to dream of, let alone touch.

'Shit... this isn't fair.' Her hands, rough and calloused from years of violence, curled into fists at her sides as if trying to hold together the pieces of herself that were cracking apart.

Her heart screamed for vengeance. Her soul whispered for belonging. And standing here between them was Morgana, her silver hair glinting like a damn halo in the moonlight, her touch warm against V's frozen skin.

V inhaled sharply, her decision blooming inside her chest like a deadly flower.

"I don't need time," she said, voice hoarse but clear. She met Morgana's crimson gaze, unwavering now.

"I want it. I want you. I want this."

Morgana's smile was slow, almost predatory, yet infinitely tender—like a lioness greeting her cub.

She leaned closer still until her forehead gently pressed against V's, a soft, grounding pressure that made V's knees threaten to buckle.

"Then, my precious child," Morgana whispered, "let us carve your destiny into the stars themselves...."

"With blood."

Without a word, Morgana held V's head back, tilting it a little, exposing the left side of the neck. And V didn't flinch. Not even a twitch. Her breath hitched—but this time it wasn't fear. It was…

Need. Craving, unholy, and pure.

Morgana's lips hovered over her neck, that breath—that damned intoxicating breath—now sending tremors down V's spine like a whispered prophecy.

"Blood," Morgana murmured again, the word like silk wrapped around a dagger.

Then—bite.

Not rough. Not savage.

A slow, divine puncture—just deep enough to break the barrier between humans and something... else.

V gasped, her nails digging into Morgana's arms as the goddess drank, not greedily, but reverently, as though tasting a forbidden wine she'd waited centuries for. Pain twisted with pleasure, agony laced with euphoria.

V's knees buckled, and Morgana caught her effortlessly, like cradling a child, a lover, a newfound treasure. Something inside V cracked open, something old, something ancient—as if she had been meant for this from the start.

Visions blurred behind her eyes: fire, screams, a black and red throne on top of a mountain of corpses, and a sea of impaled beings that she didn't even recognize all of them.

A vision of a world literally drowning in blood, and the source was the blood tears of a silver-haired woman.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" V let out a terrifying and bloody scream that shook the hall, before it turned into a moan instead—choked, breathless, raw—as Morgana's fangs withdrew, leaving only two perfect, glistening wounds and a burning trail of divine venom seeping through her veins. The pain had been exquisite. The transformation—inevitable.

Her heartbeat stuttered once.

Twice.

Then, it stopped.

And for one impossibly long second, V stood suspended in nothingness. No breath. No thought. No fear. Just silence—then power. A thunderous, crashing wave of being that shattered the walls inside her. The barriers. The secrets.

And like the curtain of an opera rising, revealing a masterpiece of art, blood rose from bottom to top, changing the human girl in an instant.

A Daywalker had risen.

V opened her eyes—eyes no longer honey-brown but laced with gleaming red—and caught the sight of a certain expression.

Morgana smiled wide with absolute happiness. And in that moment V felt the need to bow, her new instinct compelled her. Her brain ordered her to obey, to submit to this divine being.

A divine being that created her, that offered her a better, more glorious future. A new life. A true life.

"Rise," the silver-haired goddess smiled, commanding her. "Rise, my princess and ruler of night."

V rose slowly to her feet, every inch of her body vibrating with newfound strength. Her senses sharpened impossibly, the world richer, louder, more vivid, as if she had finally emerged from beneath murky waters into dazzling daylight. Yet, the sun held no threat; it was hers to command, to defy.

She stood tall and proud, her hair was now longer and mirrored Morgana's silver one, and V noticed her skin had gone even more pale. She wasn't worried, quite the contrary she felt... good and strong and thirsty.

Ah yes. the thirst.

Glup.

V swallowed hard feeling her dry throat and tried to avoid looking directly at Morgana's perfect neck and its amazing and vital blood. However, she couldn't, especially when Morgana tilted her head to the side a little with a smug face.

Unable to hold or think properly, V jumped forward, knocking the goddess backward on the floor, and lunged herself right on top of her new mom.

"Oh! Ooh! Someone is hungry~" Morgana mocked and enjoyed the embarrassment of her daughter.

"Mother," V breathed, savoring the word as it rolled off her tongue. She met Morgana's eyes, her own gleaming with reverence and devotion. "Thank you."

That was all she said before digging her fangs deep into Morgana's neck, drawing out the warm, thick, delicious blood that tasted far sweeter than a thousand sins.

The moment Morgana's divine essence flooded her mouth, V felt herself ignite. The blood—rich, intoxicating, laced with raw power—burned through her veins, causing her to have the first and biggest orgasm of her life.

This was a pleasure, sinful, forbidden—an addiction, a necessity.

Part of the organization's training for the women was to force them to eat every day from a young age a specific mixture of herbs and other stuff that did irreversible harm. It caused "Anorgasmia" in them, making the young and adult assassins feel nothing in terms of intimacy or sexual desire, it was a necessary move on their part since an assassin, after all, needs to focus on the mission. And the pleasure of flesh was the main distraction.

Now inside Morgana's temple and with a new 'clean' body, V was able to receive for the first time a 'real' and mind-blowing orgasm that made her scream and moan so loud.

V's scream echoed through the vast chamber like a symphony of resurrection—raw, primal, and beautiful. The sound was not one of pain, nor despair, but the triumphant birth cry of a predator who had just learned what it truly meant to feel.

Morgana held her through it all, arms wrapped protectively around the trembling Daywalker, stroking her silver-streaked hair with motherly reverence. The goddess's body, even pinned beneath V's frantic hunger, remained relaxed, proud, and welcoming. She didn't flinch at the bite, nor at the nails digging into her hips. She simply smiled, lips parted in silent awe, watching her daughter claim her inheritance.

"That's it, little one," Morgana purred, her voice husky with delight. "Drink. Feel. Become."

"And let's fuck.... I'm so damn horny"

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