“I don’t know what the hell you’re talkingabout.”
“I know.” His mouth firming, Týr’s obsidian dagger appeared in his palm. He sliced his wrist, blood gushed, thick and rich, snagging Dagan attention like a lure. “After we became Guardians, I followed you once, to talk to you…I saw you feed from a mountainlion.”
“You’re always where you shouldn’t fucking be,” Dagan muttered. “By the heavens, Týr, how could you let that happen? I thought you cared abouther—”
A thick wrist was slapped against his mouth. Hunger gnawing his gut, Dagan clamped his lips around Týr’s profusely bleeding wound and sucked. But at Týr’s fast healing abilities, the lesion closed. Too ravenous to care, Dagan’s fangs dropped. He licked the warrior’s skin and sank his incisors deepagain.
Týr inhaled sharply. A groan escaped him. “Fuck me! Is that what they all feel when you feed fromthem?”
Like a blast of icy water, Týr’s words froze him. What the hell was he doing? He jerked away, shame rushing through him. Týr’s blood would stop his thirst for a while, but it wouldn’t give him what he trulyneeded.
Týr cut a quick look at the puncture marks in his wrist as they closed, then checked Dagan’s wound again. His brow creased. Those pale brown eyes nailed him. “Why aren’t youhealing?”
He rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Because it’s female blood Ineed.”
“Shae—”
Dagan shook his head and lowered his hand. “I cannot. She’s human. I’ll kill her…that’s my fuckingcurse.”
“Tartarus sure screwed us over,” Týr muttered. His eyes darkened, hollowed as if pulled back into the past. “What about the goddess I sensed you with over thecenturies?”
Call Kaerys again? His entire being revolted. “No.”
“Then find another female to feed from. You need toheal.”
“No.”
“What the hell do you mean,no?”
Dagan cast him a tired look. “Not at the price it comes with. My saliva being an aphrodisiac, they’ll want more than I’m prepared to give. I can’t—Iwon’tbetray Shae. I’ll heal like humansdo.”
“Dag, we fight fucking evil and other shit every night. You cannot be at mortalstrength.”
“I’ve fought well enough in the pastmonth.”
“You haven’t fed for that long?” Týr growled, reminding Dagan so much of how they’d once been. An ache formed in hissternum.
“I have, just not from a female of our genus. Animals sustain my hunger for a few hours.” He shifted against the pillar and winced as pain speared him. “Why do you careanyway?”
“Because no matter what, you’re still my friend. I know I fucked up damn bad. I wish to the heavens I knew what happened that day. I spent millennia going through the events…” His fingers tunneled through his shaggy hair. “I was patrolling the temple area when one of the handmaidens said that Inara wanted to see me. I recall waiting for her in her chamber. She arrived, seemed happy I was there, and she wanted to go to the river. I refused. She wasn’t pleased but accepted it. After that,nothing…”
When Dagan remained silent, Týr’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I know no apology will ever be enough…” He rose to his feet. “Let me check what’s going on down below, I’ll be back to take you to thecastle.”
After Týr had left, with humiliation and guilt churning his gut, Dagan felt like shit. He wished he could let go of the past. But every time he thought about the brutal battle in the Sumerian temple, his mind turned hazy with agony and betrayal, and all he saw was Týr—the sole survivor in that blood-soakedroom.
Pain strummed through his belly as he moved again. He bit back a curse and pushed against the cemented pillar. Using the thing as a crutch, he shoved to his feet, breathing hard through his nose, and braced a hand on thewall.
“Why do you do this toyourself?”
At the soft voice, his gaze snapped to his left. A shadowy, feminine figure appeared at his side, her scent achingly familiar. His heart pounded against his sternum. He dropped to his ass, shock nailing him in place. “No.No, it cannotbe…
“Aye, it’s me.” A broken laugh echoed in the light breeze. Gentle hands touched his face. “I missed you,ahu.”
Brother? He blinked his blurry gaze, so sure he was hallucinating from blood loss. “Inara? How—why?”
The mirage merely shook her head. She appeared older. Thinner. No longer the teenage girl he’d once known. “You suffer greatly, when all you have to do is trustyourself.”
“What are you talking about?” Her vision wavered. “No, don’t leave—please don’t—” He tried to grab her. Instead, his hand flayed through air. “Where areyou?”
