Page 80 of Blood of the Fairest

And then it hits me.

This is Wulf.

I'm dreaming about feeding on him again, but it's quickly becoming a nightmare. Red heat gushes into my mouth, dripping from my chin. It drips down his neck until my tongue laps it away, my sticky fingers twisting in his hair.

His big, rough hands gently pull my face back to the bite I left so the frenzied feeding can continue.

But the gore smothering my face makes my gut twist with horror and nausea.

No. Stop. I don't want to be a monster. No, no, no⁠—

"Verena."

I startle awake from the real Huntsman gingerly shaking my shoulder.

I'm in the queen's luxurious bed. The sheets are tangled around me and the thin nightgown I'm wearing. It's dim in here except for a bright sliver of morning light peeping through the curtains.

I peer up at Wulf. He sits at the edge of the bed, a frown etched into his handsome face.

One of his hands ghosts toward the tears drying on my cheek before pulling back as he seems to decide against it.

My voice is raspy from waking up. "This wake-up call had better come with a cup of joe."

His eyes narrow. "Who is Joe?"

"No, no. Coffee. Bean juice. Rocket fuel." I yawn, sitting upright. "If you're going to wake me up against my will, at least bring me something good to drink."

Wulf doesn't say a word, but his pale gaze drops to the bandage on his thick arm.

That little feed-and-grind episode from my dream suddenly feels way too fresh, so I subtly scoot further away from the tempting man.

He clocks the movement and immediately stands, striding toward the door.

"I'll bring you a drink."

The doors shut quietly behind him.

"You were crying in your sleep again," Eris grumbles from the big mirror. "I told him to come in and wake you from whatever it is that you don't talk about anymore."

"In the future, could you just ignore whatever sounds I make and let me rest? You don't get a face like this—" I motion vaguely at myself as I yawn again, "—without a lot of good old-fashioned beauty sleep. I'm not a morning person."

The model in my mirror is amused. "Clearly. But aren't you eager to meet the tavern maids you hired? They left Isenhold by carriage earlier and should arrive at the castle soon."

Just like that, I'm awake. I part the sheer dark blue drapes at the end of the bed to grin at Eris.

"Have I mentioned how useful it is that you can bounce around reflections and tell me things? I love being pals with a mirror ghost."

His smile dies. Dozens of pastel colors shimmer in his silvery hair as he looks away.

"You and I are not pals, Verena."

"Right, right. Because you have that oh-so-mysterious ulterior motive, which I'm pretty sure has something to do with you getting out of the mirror realm," I nod sagely before I get up to wash my face.

Several minutes later, just as I've finished changing into another bland dress in what Eris calls the garderobe, Wulf returns with a huge, steaming mug of mulled wine.

I'm about to remind him how tasteless that is for me and suggest he drink it himself when the aroma slams into the back of my throat.

The scent of warm spiced mulled wine is overpowered by mint and blackberries.