“What?” she hisses, and I take a step back, uncertain if I have the right room. Because the woman in front of me does not lookwell.There are dark circles under her eyes as if she’s been crying all night, and she looks exhausted, but it’s the grimace on her face and the way she’s holding her stomach that cause alarm for me.
“Are you alright, Chloe said you were sick and I?—”
Ivy lets out a groan as she braces herself against the door.
“F–fine, it’ll pass, I just–”
And all at once, Chloe’s words sink into my memory. About Ivy needing toeat.
“Ivy, did you—last night, after?—”
I run a hand through my hair as she lets out an exasperated cry, and the minute I see her nearly buckle, I don’t think twice and lunge to catch her. She grasps my arms, and all at once that energy festers again, and she looks up at me with a pained expression.
“Eat?” I ask. The way her gaze drifts to my neck, her fangs catching the light, tell me the answer before she does.
“No,” she mutters. “I didn’t want to, I?—”
“Ivy, you need to eat. You’re in bloodheat.” The fact I’m telling her this is not lost on me, because Adrien’s told me plenty of times to take care of myself.
And yet I always think I can manage, but then…
Then he always comes to save me from myself, because he’s too good a person to let me suffer as I should.
“No,” she cries, as I help her up. “Just n-need… lie down.”
“Ivy—”
“Just take me to my bed, Wesley. Leave me be.”
I am torn between listening and forcing her to eat. I know she won’t like it, but in this state, I’m certainly stronger and she needs the blood. Clearly.
“Okay,” I say as I help her to her bed. She crawls up on it, pulling her legs to her chest. Her long nightgown clings to her skin, and I realize she’s sweating. Which means she’s not far from a full blown crash.
Fuck.
I don’t think twice as I bring my wrist to my lips and bite. Hard enough I draw blood. It hurts, and the taste of my blood is not as good as Adrien’s, but it’ll have to do. I wait until I get a good rush and then I let it hover against her lips. She closes her eyes, her body shaking.
“Ivy,” I call. She shakes like a leaf, but there’s still a quiet, understated defiance as she snuffs my wrists, even though her lips are turning blue.
“D-don’t want?—”
I rub my wrist on her lips, trying to spread my blood between the slight opening of her mouth, and she tenses.
“I know you don’twantit, but youneedit. You’re going to crash, Ivy. And crashing can?—”
I swallow hard. “Kill you.”
“Maybe it’s better that way,” she mewls. “I’m n-never—going to find a m-mate before my t-twenty-first b-birthday. I’m n-never g-going to make m-my father proud and r-rule.”
Her words settle on me, and I lean closer, tilting her head up so my blood flows into her mouth. She tries to fight me, her fingernails dragging along my arm, but she’s weak. There’s barely any strength when she pushes.
“Definitely not,” I say. “You’ll find a mate,” I assure her. “I know you will.”
She laughs and it’s weak. Defiant.
“You don’t even know me,” she bites. “Why are you even here, you?—”
She stops, her entire body stilling, and I know she tastes it. My blood. Her tongue flecksout to lick the wound, and my cock hardens from the feel. Her warm, smooth tongue caressing my skin, licking me clean.
