The need pounds in my temples and veins. There are so many things in the air, scents, sounds but the only one that captures me is:
Blood.
I don’t remember what happened. I don’t even remember where I am. There’s just one thought blaring in my head right now, and it consumes me.
God. I’m so fucking hungry!
And Lucian is—he’s stopping me.
There’s blood close by. I can see it. Smell it. Almost taste it beyond the remains of Lucian on my tongue.
Wet. Visceral.
Life-giving.
Mine.
The copper scent fills my nose, canceling out all others.
It should be mine.
Lucian’s talking again; he won’t shut up. Anger burns in me at him for putting his hands on me. I don’t give a fuck what he is or that he can probably rip me apart.
With a howling roar, I rear up, coming at him with nails and fangs extended. I shove him, striking him hard with my hands, slashing my nails over his face as I scramble, sobbing and laughing, desperate for that food.
I stumble to a nearby body, and I rip the flesh to openveins to get to the blood. It’s wet, cooling, and I swallow it all, guzzling it into me with glee.
But that blood isn’t enough. This man’s already dead, and what should be an electric buzzing of his life essence is merely a whisper. It takes only a moment before it’s gone completely, and I’m left with blood that’s dull and bitter-tasting.
I toss the corpse, crawl into a small pool of spilled blood, and start to suck it up from the ground.
Strong arms come around me, and I’m ripped away. I scream, thrashing about.
I want to eat. I want to make things bleed and feed this voracious hunger that tears through me.
“No!No!Let me go!” I’m wild. Animalistic. Lucian’s stopping meagain. The cruelty of him. He’d rather see me starve than live.
“You need to listen to me, Monty,” he growls in my ear. “You need to calm down.”
“Fuck you!” My feet kick the air as he lifts me a foot off the ground. “Put me down!”
“You want down? Is that it? Fucking fine.” He throws me down to the ground. The back of my head slams against the floor, my vision darkening for a second and the fight leaving me. Then his weight comes over me, pinning me there with his body.
“How’s this for down? Hard enough? Real enough? I know how you’re feeling, and it’ll pass, I promise.”
Promise what?
Torture?
I need to feed. I need all the blood in the world. I need flesh ripped open, hot blood gushing. And he thinks he can stop me?
With a growl, I try to rise up, but he simply slams me back down.
Lucian’s an elegant savage, and right now I despise him down to my core. Into the parts of me that are dying.
He grabs my face, fingers digging into my cheeks to hold me there, and makes me look at him. I don’t know how or why, but I’m compelled to, even though looking at him is the last thing I want to do.
Fuck, I hate him.
