The hunger surged.
My mouth watered as the urge to feed coiled through me, sharp and merciless.
I jerked away from Roman, stumbling into the front room, where Osman hovered uneasily.
“I need more souls.” My voice was strained, desperate. “I was taught not to kill the innocent, but if I don’t find one soon…” My fingers curled against the wall for balance, my vision swimming. “You might be next.”
Osman paled, inching backward. “The tavern,” he blurted, pointing toward the door. “I told you—there are terrible men there.”
I barely had time to register his words before a ragged, desperate scream tore through the house.
“Malik!”
Roman’s voice. Hoarse, frantic.
I spun, rushing back to him. My heart slammed against my ribs.
His eyes were open. Bleary, unfocused, but alive.
“You’re awake!”
He pushed himself up with determination. “I’m coming with you.”
“No!” I pressed a firm hand against his chest, forcing him back down. “You’re still weak. You can’t go—you need to stay here and heal.”
His breathing was shallow, his hands clenched into fists.
But I saw it in his gaze.
The fire.
The refusal to be left behind.
Roman shoved my hand aside with surprising strength. “I’m not staying.” His voice was hoarse but firm. “I heard what you said, and I’m coming to keep you safe.”
Before I could argue, he lurched to his feet, grasped my arm, and pushed us toward the door.
Outside, the night air wrapped around us like a damp shroud, the cold mist of rain beading on my coat like tiny diamonds on black velvet.
The hunger tore through me relentlessly. My veins thrummed with need, and my breath came shallow and ragged. But I pushed forward, knowing Osman followed a few paces behind.
I wanted to leave him in the darkness, to shake him from my shadow. But no matter how fast I moved, he remained close.
The craving roared louder.
The scent of humans teased and tormented my nose, their life forces pulsing in the distance.
I began to run.
The tavern loomed ahead, its doors flung open, the stench of sweat, ale, and rot thick in the air.
A man knelt beside a corpse, looting its pockets.
I didn’t hesitate.
I seized my knife, tore it from its sheath, and plunged it into his back. The soul surged into me before his body even hit the cobblestones.
But it was only an appetizer.
