The change was instantaneous. Kit had been as limp as a newborn kitten, but he snatched Quin’s hand up and sucked on his thumb, the sudden movement making Quin gasp in shock. The pressure intensified as Kit tried to pull Quin’s thumb further into his mouth.
“Kit?”
At Quin’s words, Kit’s eyes moved, his eyelashes fluttering.
“Hey, baby boy,” Quin said, beyond relieved. “Are you…?” He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to ask. Kit wasn’t quite back yet; darkness still swallowed his eyes, and he was mindlessly sucking on Quin’s thumb.
Kit blinked once, twice. The blackness receded. If Quin hadn’t been staring at him, he might not have noticed at first. As Kit’s eyes gained clarity, Quin tried to slide his thumb out of his mouth, but Kit’s claws dug into his wrist, keeping him there.
“All right,” Quin said. “You need more blood. That’s fine. You don’t need to take my whole hand off.”
Kit lessened his hold, but only a little.
Quin stretched his free hand over to the nightstand to get his phone, checking the time. Almost seven. The sun had risen.Kit would fall into his natural sleeping state soon, but Quin was determined to wake him fully from this trance before that happened.
He withdrew his thumb with enough force that Kit would either have to let it go or bite down to keep it there. Thankfully, Quin pulled it free without losing it to a fang, though Kit tried to take chase.
“Baby, I want you to listen to me,” Quin said, voice firm. He held his throbbing thumb out of Kit’s reach. “Fight whatever has a hold on you, please. For me. I’m worried about you.”
Kit frowned, his eyes laser-focused on the bead of blood that formed on Quin’s finger. Before Quin knew it, Kit switched their positions. Quin’s head spun with how fast Kit had him on his back. Before he could protest, Kit dived for his neck, fangs snapping.
Quin shot his hand out and fisted Kit’s hair in a last-ditch attempt to stop him from biting. Kit hissed like a cornered cat, but the pain seemed to shock realisation into his eyes.
Quin disentangled his fingers from Kit’s hair, holding both hands up. “Kit?”
“What…” Kit’s eyes widened as he looked down at Quin and then around the room. “What’s happening?”
“Do you remember anything from the past ten minutes?” Quin asked, knowing the answer already.
“No—i-it’s morning, isn’t it?”
“It’s around seven, yeah.”
Kit ran his tongue over his teeth. “I can taste you in my mouth.”
Quin showed Kit his thumb. “You took a little.”
Kit’s brow creased. “Why am I awake? What happened?” he asked in a small voice.
Quin’s gaze flitted across the room and back again. “You were standing at the window, with the curtains thrown open. Youreyes were black.” He didn’t want to upset Kit, but he needed to be told the truth.
Kit jumped off Quin and stood at the edge of the bed, looking between Quin and the window. “What?” he asked, voice threadlike. “Why would my eyes look like that?”
“I don’t know, baby. Come here, please. Don’t run away from me.” Quin sat up, his heart racing. If Kit tried to escape in his panic, he’d get caught in the sun. Quin’s forehead beaded with sweat, even though the room was cool.
“No, Quin, I don’t understand.” Kit sent an anxious look at the window. “I don’t want to do that. I’m normal; I’m fine.”
Quin got up with deliberate slowness, making sure that Kit had plenty of time to reject his touch once it came. But Kit stood there, statue-still, gaze fixed upon the window. Quin put his arms around Kit and drew him close. “It’s all right,” he soothed.
“No, it’s not,” Kit said, choking on a sob.
“Hey, hey,” Quin said, stroking his hands over Kit’s bare back. “I’m here. I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“Quin, I’m going insane.”
Quin used a couple of fingers to tilt Kit’s chin upwards. “What do you mean? Has this happened before?”
Kit shook under his touch. “I’ve been having dreams. At least, I think they’re dreams. Sometimes they feel so real…”
