Page 50 of To Crave Truly

He pulled his fangs from the woman’s wrist, licked his lips and let her just drop to the floor in a heap. “I know. Hungry?”

“No.” Unfortunately, my stomach chose that moment to growl.

“Really?” Mordecai said with a chuckle as he held out his wrist towards me. “Want some?”

“I’d rather die.”

A guard came in and collected the poor woman off the floor. I hope she knew what she was getting into when she signed up for feeding Mordecai. Or at least getting some sort of compensation, but, knowing Mordecai, she was probably meant to feel lucky she was left alive.

He stood from his chair and walked over to me. I was still in the bed, pathetically weak since I hadn’t finished healing completely. I knew he was doing that deliberately. Just giving me scraps to keep me alive, but not enough that I would return to full strength. I could move about, but I wouldn’t be able to take him on in a fight.

“That can be arranged, Jasper. You’re only alive because you’re useful.”

I scowled at him. “When I get the chance, I’m going to rip you limb from limb.”

“I’m sure,” he said as he plopped down next to me on the bed. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so… violent?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a dick?”

He barked a laugh. “Touché.” He fixed his red eyes on me, staring with something akin to wonder in his eyes. “You’re really quite something, you know.”

“Really?”

“Hmm.” He crossed one ankle over the other and folded his hands gently in his lap. “Yes. So defiant, even in the face of your demise.”

“I won’t die here,” I spat. I wasn’t going to go out of this world as Mordecai’s prisoner.

“Is that so? You do realise that you’re clinging to life by a thread.”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I hated feeling so useless. “I won’t be forever, and then—”

“Yes, I know. Limb ripping or something along that vein.” He lay back and closed his eyes.

I wanted to rip his goddamn throat out, but I knew I wouldn’t get within an inch of his neck. I’d be dead before I blinked.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he said on a slow exhale, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Trying to destroy everything.”

He peeped at me through one eye. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

He sat back up, turning his body until he faced me. “The simple answer is that I’m doing it because I can.”

“And the complicated one?”

“Because he took my world from me, and I want to do the same to him. Make no mistake, Jasper, I might be calm now, but beneath the surface is a thirst that is unquenchable.” His eyes brightened and sparkled with manic glee and, for the first time in a long time, I felt a trickle of fear traipse its finger up my spine. Mordecai was mad. Blinded by a revenge that had been twisted by centuries of torture until it was a visceral thing I could almost taste.

He went completely still, like a gruesome statue just waiting for something to happen. He didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. He was just still and staring at me. It was really quite unnerving.

“Morde—”

He snarled and flew towards me at vampire speed, knocking me backwards onto the bed. I pushed at his chest, but he was like an immoveable rock, heavy and determined to pin me in place. His canines elongated and he sank them into the skin on his wrist, ripping it wide open until blood was dripping down his forearm. His other hand grabbed my chin and forced my mouth open wide before he slammed his wrist over my lips.

I shook my head, refusing to take his blood.

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