I've already made my decision.

I made it in the Witch's Lair. I made it on the road, when I ended that family's life.

I pulled the trap door up, catching a whiff of incense, and peered into the darkness below. A ladder led down some eight feet on to a stone foundation, into a room that opened into a large square. I didn't bother with the ladder, preferring to just leap down the hole; If she woke I didn't want to waste time faffing about on a ladder.

I landed with a soft thump, feeling pain shoot up my legs. But, as soon as it came, it quickly faded to be replaced with pangs of hunger. I felt my horns complete their tight rotations and a second prong come sweeping back. I felt my legs shift to onyx hooves, silver hair sprouting up to my waist, and saw black veins bulge down my arms like the a stream of corruption. The darkness of the room faded and I saw the world in shades of grey. I saw the shelves with their books and a chest tucked against a wall, and I saw the bed and the concealing curves of the bedding.

I strode across the room, reaching full erection with only a thought, and reached for the corner of the covers.

I caught a flash of movement and reflexively brought up my arms. A searing pain shot through me as I staggered back, a bloody dagger lodged in the bone of my forearm. Blood spurted around the edge of the blade, pulsing in time to my pain. I hissed a word between clenched teeth. "Shit."

"Back off, you fucking bastard!" She shouted, leaping to her feet and holding her arms up wardingly. I could see an unease in her, a fear, and it was easy enough to divine its source. The knife in my arm, yanked out of her hand when I staggered back. Now she was unarmed and in the dark with her assailant. I doubted she could see me, not in the slightest.

I felt an itching around the blade in my arm, like a dozen insects crawling around the wound, and I grasped the hilt in my clawed hand. It came free with and yank, the blood spraying out and spattering against the floor and wall; it struck the bedding and the innkeeper. She grunted in surprise and took an involuntary step back, nearly falling back onto the bed.

I felt a surge of hunger and my wound stopped spurting. The knife clattered against the ground as I took a step forward and I was fascinated to find Nadia standing with a distracted expression. Her face was spotted with my black blood, running down her cheeks, and she was slow to react to my movement.

"This is. . ." She trailed off, reaching up to touch her face. She shook her head, trying to focus. I pounced in that moment, taking advantage to the effect of my blood; similar to my semen. I shoved her over, hearing her head thump against the wooden wall behind the bed, and pinned her body with my own. My hands held her arms to the side and my knee rested between her legs. She had her eyes screwed shut in pain, and she struggled against my restraints.

I looked down at her, hunger roiling in my stomach and in my cock, and felt curiosity war with raw need.