Mistaking the Pureblood for My Slave

Synopsis

I treated the pureblood progenitor as nothing more than a worthless blood slave. Every day, I drank from him and made him help me into my stockings at my bedside. "Pathetic. Is making me happy truly beyond you?" I taunted. While I squandered his fortune, I lashed his back with a silver whip. That was the day my system let out a shriek of pure terror. 'Host, that's the merciless prince, the one who's been asleep for a thousand years!' The whip slipped from my fingers, and I spun to flee. His icy, silken hair coiled around my ankle and held me fast. He licked the blood from his lips, his eyes wild and crimson with madness. "Sweetheart, you've had your fill. Now it's my turn to feast."