“Well, Tristan did sneak me some bits of bread and cheese on that first day in the dungeon…” I murmured as his large hands gently brushed my hair back from my shoulders, his gaze only deepening in thought. He was still staring at the bite marks on my wrist, his head tilted as he ran a thumb over each one.
My attention was drawn to where his pulse jumped under his skin, anger surging through his veins, though I knew it wasn’t directed at me. I licked my lips as I stared at the warm section of golden skin, my mouth suddenly watering at the thought of tasting him there, of running my tongue against his skin.
I suddenly broke out into chills as an urge I didn’t understand hit me hard—one that I’d never experienced before, especially not with Malakai. Tightening my fists, I tried to ignore it, but of course Kolvar noticed the subtle shift in my energy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his large fingers catching my jaw.
“Nothing.” I shook my head in denial, causing my brain to feel like it was rattling around in my skull. “Just have been around too much blood, or lost too much blood… I feel off.”
“Off how?” he asked gently, his face filled with concern.
“I’m so hungry and thirsty.” My eyes watered as I tried to explain how I felt, though it felt like an impossible, exhausting task. “And so tired. I’m starting to imagine the scent of blood. It’s making everything hurt, and my mouth is literally watering. I don’t like the taste of blood, especially when Malakai used to force it down my throat, so I don’t understand—”
“Breathe,” Kolvar said gently, interrupting my manic ramblings.
Why would I crave the blood thrumming through his veins? Why would I ever crave blood after what I’d been through with Malakai? Maybe it was because of what it represented? Because he would occasionally heal me, and right now I needed to be healed. I needed so many things, but healing my physical ailments was a good place to start.
Kolvar looked down at my lips and asked a simple question. “You’ve drank Malakai’s blood before?”
“Of course,” I murmured.
“Did you like it?”
I frowned at his question, not understanding where this was going. “No, of course not. He forced me—literally forced me, a human—to drink it. To make me his Thrall.” In case he didn’t understand the situation I’d come from. Although, given the way they described Tridian society, I had a feeling they would agree that it wasn’t fucking okay.
“But how did your body respond to it?” he asked, his jaw clicking.
I was a little perturbed that he hadn’t addressed the ‘forced’ aspect. I was finding that I needed validation that nothing I’d been through was normal. That I had a right to be upset, to feel violated, to feel wronged…but I couldn’t put that on them. That wasn’t their responsibility; these Lords had done more than enough.
“My stomach cramped horribly,” I whispered, feeling a ghost of the sharp pain that always left me feeling more ravenous than before. Remembering my conversation with Tristan, I added, “Apparently Thralls normally respond differently to blood, but I never felt an emotional or mental subservience to him. I certainly wasn’t a willing participant in any blood exchange—I was his Thrall only in name. His blood did heal me, though.”
It felt so good to be able to say I wasn’t willing out loud without fear of being punished.
“Have you ever drank the blood of another vampyre?” he asked, his brow dipping in thought.
“Not that I can remember. Malakai would have never allowed that. He was extremely territorial of me before last night… I’m honestly still in shock that he let anyone else touch me, let alone drink from me.”
There was a moment of thoughtful silence while Kolvar considered my words. “Would you be okay with trying something, darling?”
“Sure.” Despite having no reason to, I trusted Kolvar—a lot. It was probably going to get me killed, with my luck.
Kolvar examined my face before leaning back and grabbing something from a bag near the foot of his bed, the rustling causing my interest to be piqued. I found that this man—all three of them, actually—interested me in the simplest ways.
When he turned with a knife in his hand, I stilled, watching in confusion as he slit the inside of his forearm down by his wrist. My gaze followed the rivulet of crimson that ran onto his palm, transfixed as it rolled onto his fingers. The scent of his warm blood filled the air, a whimper escaping my lips as the enticing aroma caused everything inside of me to light up. I tightened my fists, rebelling against the urge to ask him for his wrist. To ask him if I could drink his blood.
What the hell was wrong with me?I disgusted myself with just the thought.
“Drink,” Kolvar said, offering me his wrist. I shook my head and clamped my mouth firmly shut, not even giving myself a second to consider it.
I refused to do that. I absolutelyrefusedto give into the twisted desire roaring through my body.
“That’s not a good idea… I’ve had a horrible experience each time,” I whispered. “Plus, I don’t want to be a Thrall—”
“You will not be my thrall,” Kolvar insisted. “I need to know if you can ingest vampyre blood and understand how it affects you. Just try it for me? If you aren’t comfortable with drinking my blood directly, I can go grab some from storage.”
No. I didn’t like that idea at all.
I examined his face and realized he was truly trying to solve a problem, one that I hadn’t even realized existed until recently. Why wasn’t I like other humans when it came to drinking vampyre blood? My eyes darted down to his wrist as I reached forward tentatively, his forearm heavy in my grip. A nervousness invaded my gut, and I shifted uncomfortably.
