Mostly because he couldn’t protect himself. He refused to strike his father. For any reason.
“Strykerius!” A wave went through the room, knocking his father away from him.
Panting and weak from the blinding pain, Urian lay on the floor, shaking. He ached from head to toe while Apollymi materialized in the room between them so that she could glare at his father.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Do you plan to kill one son because another was injured? In what rational world does this make sense?”
His father pushed himself to his feet as sanity returned to his eyes. Finally in control, he knelt beside Urian and brushed his hair back from Urian’s stinging cheek, eye, and jaw so that he could cup his face and survey the damage he’d wrought. “I’m sorry.”
Like I give a shit.
Pushing his father away, Urian rolled over and stood on legs that didn’t really want to support him at all. In that moment, he hated his father with every part of his being.
Hated his twin even more. Damn them both for this. He’d done nothing to deserve it and he was tired of taking the brunt of their aggression. Tired of being beaten when all he’d done was try to help someone.
“Urian …”
Not wanting to hear it, he ignored his father, and he continued on to his room. He forced himself to close the door gently with his powers, even though he’d rather slam it. But the last thing he needed was one more ass-kicking tonight for violating another house rule.
He was too weak to lose even as much as one more drop of blood. His breathing ragged from the agony, he wiped at his nose and spat the blood out of his mouth into the basin he used for washing, then rinsed his mouth. Damn, it hurt. That blood had loosened his fangs. Not thatheneeded them.
Still …
The air stirred behind him. He tensed, expecting it to be his father or brother.
“Are you all right?”
His breath rushed out at the unexpected sound of Xanthia’s gentle voice.
Lovely, this was all his battered ego needed …
The heat of embarrassment stung his cheeks and made his injuries burn even more. Grabbing a cloth, he wiped at his swollen lips. “Fine.” He glanced at her. “You should be resting.”
“I wanted to check on you.” She swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry you were punished for saving us.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I assumed my brothers could fend for themselves. They’re gigantic, belligerent assholes. And were armed, to boot. You and your children weren’t. Don’t know why my solren’s so pissed off when he’s the one who’s always said that if we can’t defend ourselves against a bunch of pathetic humans, then we deserve to die. He’s drilled us every day of our lives to protect ourselves and fight against them.”
“We were taught to live peacefully by their sides. That if we didn’t learn to fight, or carry weapons, they’d leave us alone and not cause us harm. We were farmers and shepherds. Not a warrior among us.”
“Aye, I know. Davyn’s father was furious when his sister went to live with her husband’s family. He told her it was a mistake. That the humans would never suffer them to live in their world … if you lie down with a wolf, expect to get eaten.”
“He was right.” She took the cloth from his hand and used it to wipe at his brow. “You need to feed in order to heal. Who nurses you?”
“I’m between donors.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He just omitted the fact that there weren’t any living donors he fed from, but rather bladders in which his father collected the blood he forced his men to give up.
“Then I offer my blood to you.”
Stunned by that offer, Urian salivated at the mere thought, but he couldn’t do that to her. Not after everything she’d been through. “Xanthia—”
She placed her fingers over his lips to stop his protest. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for us. My God, Urian … for the first time in my life, I can see! Please, let me do this for you.”
Any thought of further protest vanished as she bared her neck to him. Maybe if he hadn’t been starving and emotionally raw he might have been able to find a shred of noble hero inside himself.
But right then and there, he was in too much pain to turn away from the comfort she offered.
He needed this. It was selfish, yet he didn’t care. Hurt and aching, he let the demon inside take control and sank his fangs into her flesh before he could find any shred of decency to stop it.
And the moment he did, he growled as an inexplicable pleasure ripped through him unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. Everything became sharper and clearer. He saw color more vibrantly. The scent of her hair awakened a deep-seated hunger that went straight to his groin. Holy gods …
