He was manipulating me. His voice was too sweet and comforting for him to be honest. I knew he was trying to bait me, trying to get me to do what he wanted.
The problem was, he wasn’t wrong.
But drinking anything still felt so damn wrong.
“Youngling… Eric. You need to drink. You need to focus.”
I sighed and took the glass from him. A first step.
I could do it. For Finn.
“If you’re a good youngling and drink up, I might give you a bit of information about your mate.”
That had me looking up fast.
Aries’s eyes flashed in amusement as he patted my shoulder.
“There you are.”
“How do you know anything about Finn?”
Was he following him? Harassing him?Scaringhim?
My fangs ached, fingertips tingling.
I was this close to jumping him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Aries said, shaking his head at me. “I’m afraid I won’t be in the mood to talk if you attack me. Besides, I’d have to hurt you, and I’m really not in the mood to. Hurting someone who’s already hit rock bottom isn’t any fun, you know?”
I wanted to fucking scratch his eyes out.
Arrogant fucker.
But if he wasn’t kidding and really had information about Finn…
I took a sip of blood and grimaced. My stomach was fighting me hard, cramping, rolling, trying to get the blood out the way it’d come from. But I swallowed and took another sip. And another one.
It was awful.
The taste was all wrong. Metallic, yes, but also sterile. Lacking any of Finn’s personal notes. And the temperature… oh god, so dead. Fucking appalling.
“Good job, youngling.” Aries patted my shoulder, because of course he had to treat me like a damn puppy.
“You said something about Finn?”
“Oh, yes.” He nodded. “Keep drinking.” The fucker seriously refilled my glass. “You keep drinking, I keep talking. Deal? Great.”
He hadn’t even bothered to wait for an answer.
Still, I was desperate to know how Finn was doing, so I drank the damn blood.
The worst part was that I was already starting to feel better. Less cold. Some of the aches were slowly fading. I fucking hated it. The lack of physical pain just made the hole in my chest feel infinitely worse.
“Your mate is fine,” Aries said. “No, I’m not following him, but I do have people checking up on him. One of my bartenders got a coffee at the coffee shop your mate works at. Apparently, he looks like shit, but he’s unharmed.”
I took another sip.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I started to welcome the nausea that hit me with each sip. It was different from pain, but uncomfortable enough for me to focus on.
