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Blaire had no idea what he apologized for. Was it for his fangs? For nearly bringing her to the best orgasm of her life just by pressing against her body? While she didn’t have the experience to draw from, she’d never been able to wrench those sensations from her body by herself. She felt so confused, so hurt by his rejection. No, she wasn’t ready for him to bite her, but did he have such little control he couldn’t be with her that way without biting her? The questions swirled around her head and her stomach turned sour.

Lukas finally looked away from her toward the door as the emotionless tone found its way back to his voice. She’d lost him.

“I’ll be stopping by Aiden’s after my meeting… so I won’t be back until much later tonight. Get some sleep.”

Not the words she wanted to hear. Not the tone she wanted him to use. She didn’t want him to leave. She thought his meeting was done. She wanted to figure this out and, most importantly, she wanted to ease this strangling desire for him.

Lukas turned without saying another word, not daring to look back at her again. Not giving her the chance to respond.

All he left her with were questions. So many questions she didn’t even know where to begin in a bid to find answers. Her head hurt to even try after what had just taken place between them.

Blaire curled up into a ball, wrapping her arms around her lower legs, drawing her knees to her chest. She was unsure what would have happened if Lukas hadn’t stopped himself.

28

BLOODY NIGHT

In the wee hours, exhausted both mentally and physically, Lukas walked down the corridors leading toward the wing housing the dorm room he shared with Blaire.

Despite the way she begged him with both her mouth and body, her trepidation when his fangs touched her skin turned him off. He wouldn’t take her in a moment of fear. Until she wasn’t afraid of what he was, he couldn’t cross that line. The sting of rejection for what he was made pain lance through his tight chest. He couldn’t control how he was born.

Lukas shuddered, as if Blaire’s fingers were still scraping over his scalp. He wanted it again. He wanted more. He prayed to whichever god watched over him that she would be asleep when he got back to their room, because he wasn’t sure he would stop himself a second time if she tried to engage with him again. He only had so much patience, and he walked a fine line that was beginning to fray.

As Lukas walked down the quiet hallway, he felt off. With each step he took toward his door, the feeling of physical exhaustion grew. The overwhelming lethargy was crippling; he posted one hand on the wall as he moved. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. Maybe with what happened earlier, stress was overwhelming his body.

Opening the door to their room, ready to crash into a deep sleep, he froze as the scent of blood assaulted his nose. Fresh blood. Blaire’s blood. A lot of it. The smell threatened to bring him to his knees.

Lukas shut the door quickly before the smell could enter the hallway and alert the other students. He didn’t have the physical strength at that moment to fend off hungry Vasirian.

Reaching out, he slapped the wall, feeling frantically for the light switch. His heart pounded wildly in his ears in a deafening beat, his breathing labored as he fought against the intoxicating smell. The entire room suffocated him in the rich scent of Blaire’s sweet blood.

His gums throbbed as his fangs readied to descend. He was so incredibly thirsty.

When he found the switch and flipped it to bathe the room in bright light, the scene that greeted him caused him to double over, clutching his stomach, and taking in a deep lungful of air as if he’d been underwater and just resurfaced.

Blaire lay on her bed on her back, the covers pushed down to her feet. The sheets she lay on were saturated with blood. Most of her left forearm was stained red with the dark liquid; her t-shirt on her left side and upper arm no longer held any trace of the crisp white color it once had.

“Blaire!” Lukas shouted in a choked cry as he rushed toward her, stumbling over the pile of books he’d tripped over earlier in the night.

He dropped to his knees beside Blaire’s bed. Putting his shaking hand on her face, he tapped at her cheek. She didn’t stir even a little.

“Blaire, please… please wake up,” he begged as he stared at her deathly pale face, listening to her shallow breathing.

Taking a steadying breath, he laid his head against her chest and listened. Her heartbeat was there, but slow. This couldn’t be happening. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he willed her heart to beat faster.

He fought his hunger. She was dying, and he couldn’t avoid his basic instincts to take what his body knew was his birthright.

In that moment, he did feel like a monster, and he hated himself.

Lukas lifted his head and stared down at her, gaze moving down to her bloody arm. His fangs descended as he licked over his lips, the ache of his gums subsiding. He couldn’t see past the haze of bloodlust to help her in the way she needed. No. This could not happen.

Throwing himself back in panic, he crawled across the floor and fumbled for his cell phone in his jeans pocket. Pulling it out, he tried to access Aiden’s number, but his fingers were slippery with the blood that coated his hands. He was covered in her blood. It was smeared on his face and his hair from listening to her heart, his hands from touching her. He finally managed to open his contacts and hit the button, silently begging his best friend to answer faster.

“Hello?” Aiden answered.

“Hurry…” Lukas rasped. “She’s dying… blood… so much blood…” He grasped at words, unable to form coherent sentences, and he didn’t know if he made any sense.

“Wait. What’s going on? Lukas?”