Why?Whywould she ask something like that of Kieran? The sharp, icy heat of anger rose in my chest, colliding with the dull ache that had settled there when Kieran told me what Poppy had asked of him. How could she? I looked away from her, hating the mess of fucked-up emotions building in my chest.
And why would he agree?
Whywould he agree when he had to know how I would react? What it would mean.
Unable to stay seated, I rose and walked the short length of the cell as if I could somehow pace away the sense of betrayal and…
I stopped and looked at the door. Betrayal wasn’t the only emotion churning in me. Guilt was, too. And hurt. I swallowed hard as Kieran’s parting words echoed through my thoughts.
Why would she ask that of him instead of me?
I knew the answer.
Because she knew I could never do it.
I was self-aware enough to acknowledge that. I mean, fuck, I almost hadn’t been able to put her in a cell. But that wasn’t what had the anger and hurt eating me up inside.
It was that neither of them had come to me with it so we could discuss it. Be on the same page and maybe find a fucking alternative.
I turned to where Poppy lay bundled in the furs, and my lips peeled back over my clenched teeth as I looked away.
What really got me—what sank its claws into me—was that Poppy hadn’t entrusted me with her fear of losing control. She hadn’t come to me.
And she knew better.
Poppy knew I was her shelter. Her home. The foundation that helped her stand.
At least, I’d believed her when she told me that.
But she’d lied.
Poppy didn’t truly believe that.
And that cut so fucking deep that it left a gaping wound I wasn’t sure could be stitched.
THE PRIMAL
My head hurt.
It felt like a blacksmith had taken up residency in my skull, relentlessly hammering on an anvil, each strike echoing through my entire body.
Each bone ached like an ancient tree carrying the weight of centuries. Each joint felt as if it were on the edge of shattering. My stomach and chest felt hollow, and I…
I ached.
I ached fromhunger. I hadn’t taken enough blood. I couldn’t quite remember why at the moment, but it was making me weak.
And getting worse.
I was so tired. I wanted nothing more than to give in to the exhaustion, but I couldn’t.
The whispers wouldn’t allow it.Theywere constant, an echo behind each thought, filling the quiet between them and telling me what I needed to do. They no longer urged me to feed. But they still wanted me to escape and put down anyone who stood in my way.
I didn’t want to do what he wanted of me. Something buried deep within stopped me. Though the pounding in my head worsened with each refusal.
You can’t fight me, came the achingly cold whisper that caused tiny bumps to erupt over my skin.You’ve never been ableto. So, why resist? If you just give in, the hunger will stop. So will the pain. You will be at peace. Don’t you want that?
What I wanted was for the whispers to quiet down, but even if they did, I couldn’t give in to the exhaustion. I couldn’t be weak anymore.
