In seconds, her body slackens against the melting ice prison, her eyelids drooping as the potion takes effect.
The silence somehow feels louder than the brutal interrogation session.
Because it’s time to complete the next part of our deal. The part I’ve been dreading.
Feeding from her. Draining her of enough blood to weaken her without killing her.
My gaze travels to her neck, and shame burns through me. Shame at what I am, and at what I have to do to survive.
But most of all, fear that whenever Riven sees me, he’ll see darkness that haunts me instead of the real me he fell in love with.
“Don’t look,” I say, my voice small, unable to meet his eyes. “Please.”
For a moment, there’s only silence.
Then, quietly, he says, “I won’t.”
I give him a small, thankful smile, and he turns away, giving me privacy.
Ghost follows him, as if the snow leopard knows this is something I have to do away from prying eyes, too.
It’s now or never. So, taking a deep breath, I walk toward Zythara, who’s slumped against the cave wall, thanks to the relaxation potion.
The night fae looks disturbingly innocent in sleep. No one would ever know that she agreed to what’s coming next.
Slowly, I kneel next to her and study the place where her pulse beats beneath her pale skin. It calls to the darkness inside me in a way that makes me want to fearmyself.
I glance back over at Riven.
He’s turned away, just as I requested.
Just like he promised.
Trusting that he’ll keep his word, I return my focus to Zythara’s neck. I need to do this. For Zoey, for Riven, for everyone back home who likely thinks I’m gone forever, and for myself.
And so, I close my eyes and bite.
Her blood floods my senses, rich and electric, power thrumming through my veins like lightning as her life force rushes through me.
I hate how good it feels. I hate myself for needing it. And I hate doing this horrible thing while the man I love stands off to the side, giving me privacy I’m not sure I deserve.
Somehow—likely thanks to the part of the deal where they specified I won’t drain her completely—I pull back.
Zythara’s breathing is shallow, but she’s still alive. Barely. And the bite mark on her neck is already starting to heal.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to erase the evidence of what I just did. Of what I am.
“It’s done,” I say as I stand, unable to meet Riven’s eyes.
The thought of the disgust waiting for me there makes me want to sink into the ground and disappear.
“Then let’s go,” he says, and he strides toward the cave’s exit, the ice wall melting at his approach.
I follow with Ghost by my side, as if the snow leopard is making sure I’m okay.
At least one of the three of us doesn’t think I’m a monster.
The stars greet us outside, their light both comforting and accusatory. Because thanks to the deal with Riven where I promised I’d do everything in my power to help him make the potion to heal his father’s mind, I can’t ask the stars to take me northwest, to the Night Court—to Zoey. We have to continue on our way to find the ancient woman, who hopefully knows the final ingredients we need for the potion, along with how to brew it.
