I lean against the wall to steady myself, swearing under my breath. Tempted just to crash right there on the bed with her.
I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’ve been this exhausted in my life—not even in all the years I spent locked in that oppressive void.
It must be the magic binding still draining my energy into her.
I’m spent. I’ve never had so many close calls in such a short time as I have since I met her.
And I’m starving.
I could eat everything in this apartment and still not be satisfied.
Unless—
A deep hunger stirs inside me, a dormant craving I’ve learned to ignore. My gaze flicks to the human on her bed, her hair splayed out around her, chest rising and falling beneath the covers.
Every beat of her heart rings behind my ears, echoing through my soul. Awaking that feral hunger inside.
Blood.
I want her blood.
I mutter another curse, lurching back as my head pulses.
Biting her now would kill her. I know that. And yet my vision starts to redden, that desperate craving intensifying.
“No,” I growl to the quiet room. “No. Irefuse.”
Lunging for the kitchen, I grip the edge of the counter and fling open the cabinets, grabbing everything I can that looks remotely edible and shoving it in my face.
Even the stuff that’s way too sweet. It’s just crystals of sugar. The white kind, and the brown kind.
And a bar of chocolate.
I eat that, too, then chug water straight from the sink. Damn, indoor plumbing sure is a marvel.
Only then do I start to feel my strength rushing back.
Finally.
Maybe this is what it’s like to be a weak little human. How the hell do they survive?
Speaking of.
The blankets rustle as the human stirs.
“So you’re awake,” I say, leaning around the kitchen wall. “Good. You need to eat.”
She blinks up at me, groggy and confused. Sitting there in those little pajamas with the rumpled blankets falling around her waist.
“Was that…was that a dream?”
I shake my head. “Not a dream.”
She groans, hauling herself out of bed and plopping down at the little dining table.
“How long was I in there?”
“That’s the trick of the place. You can’t tell a second from a century. Yet it still drags just as long.”
