But it would end the thirst.
She drew a half step nearer. So close. Half-aware, I ran my tongue over an aching fang.
“I could put some blood in a glass and hand it to you—”
“No!” I shouted, then slammed my palms over my ears at the noise. “Just go. If you ever cared for me at all… please, Thea. Leave. While I can still beg you to.”
I didn’t want to be a monster like them. But if Amalthea came near… I remembered the vampire that had ripped my mother apart.
I loathed the creature. But I understood it now in a way that was impossible then. If it had been starved like this—for days, weeks, months—then I understood the urge all too well.
Understood that if it weren’t for the cursed copper bars, I would be ripping her throat wide open. That this monstrous nature was now a part of me, as it was a part of every vampire that haunted Eurobis.
Understood that as the necromancer, it would be my duty to rein them in.
When Amalthea finally left, taking that sliver of light away with her, I held on to that understanding as long as I could. Held on to it as I slumped against the stone of the cell.
Held on to it as the thirst continued to torture me.
Chapter Two
Samara
The door opened.
There was no heartbeat.
I didn’t open my eyes. Couldn’t muster the strength.
Everything hurt. It was beyond thirst. I couldn’t lift my head from where it slumped, chin plastered with sweat against my chest. My lips were cracked and raw, caked with dirt and dried blood that brought me no peace. Every bone in me was tired, as if the life was sapped away, and I was slowly, excruciatingly, turning to dust.
I had only the slightest awareness of sounds around me.
A cedar scent wafted across the stale air to reach me. My nostrils twitched, but I didn’t lift my chin.
It didn’t matter.
“Oh, Samara.” A voice like night—so close. It was quiet, so it didn’t hurt my sensitive ears. I’d known that voice once, but all thought, all memories, had leached away. There was only the thirst, and the beckoning shadow of death, waiting for me to crumble. “You can’t go on like this.”
Soon. I couldn’t part my lips to answer. I wasn’t even sure if it was real, it was so distant.
“You must feed.” The voice was stern, stronger, but it didn’t rise above a whisper.
There was a soft thud, and suddenly the cedar scent was stronger, wrapping around me. The first thing like comfort I’d experienced in the eternity since I’d been in this state.
Maybe that was why I managed to force a single spat of air from my lips. “Won’t.”
A strong hand gripped my shoulder, another tilting my head back. I met Raphael’s blazing gaze, the dark red almost glowing.
“I will not permit you to die,” he growled.
No. You denied me that. The thought came without any ire. There were no emotions left, not anger, not relief he was alive.
“You’re on the brink of true death, Samara. If you don’t drink today, you will fade away. All this suffering will be for nothing.”
True death.
It sounded peaceful.
