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    Summary

    "I know you're in your heaviest bleeding phase right now."
    "Don't tell me you're monitoring my cycle?"
    "Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to." The drow smiled at her and continued, "Just share with me the blood that your body has already rejected, and in return I will show you why women among the drow are valued much higher than men." Her hand slipped from Z'rell’s stomach and wrapped around her waist. "After me, you won’t even remember Nere." Araj half-closed her eyes languidly. Her gestures oozed falseness, but still ignited the fire of interest in Z'rell.
    "Finally you speak my language." The disgruntled sneer on the half-orc’s face gave way to a lustful grin and she allowed Araj to lead her to the drow's room.

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