Page 26 of Her Blood Revenge

‘Good girl,’ I admire, kissing her nose. ‘Do me a favour and bite the Dream Walker, would you?’

‘Even if she did, it wouldn’t kill me, and you wouldn’t escape the boundary.’

‘No. But watching you writhe around and foaming at the mouth would be extremely amusing.’

Shaw releases a deep chuckle before reaching out his hand.

‘Then let’s see what she does when I hold her. Perhaps she will see fit to grant your wish and bite me.’ My Kedar does a loop around his wrist. He lifts her to his eye level. ‘Dear Kedar. Please bite me if you see me as a threat to your beloved witch mistress.’

Nothing. They simply look at one another. He then returns her to me, not a single bite to be seen.

‘And she needs a name,’ he says, nodding at her. ‘She’ll be with you until she dies. We can’t just keep calling her “snake” or “Kedar”.’

She slithers off me and disappears into the grass. She won’t go far.

Shaw’s my enemy. A liar. A monster. But, if she makes no move to kill or harm him, then I know he means nothing but protection for me. My Kedar is my familiar. Her purpose is to protect and guide. Although she cannot speak, her actions are profound. They leave me with a begrudgingly resound resignation.

Of all the souls in this world that would see me burn, hung, cut or crushed, Shaw is not one of them. I make a mental note to get her in the hands of the two other pricks desperate to fix the colossal fuck ups they have committed against me. Let’s see what she has to say about them.

‘She knows that all we want to do is keep you safe and make you strong,’ he says, watching me. He shuffles closer, his features softening. ‘We fucked up, Ashe. Your Kedar knows it.’ He looks up to me. ‘We know it. And we all know we won’t do it again.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘What? Ashe? It is your name.’

‘Not to you.’

I want them to remember what I am to them. Their Pixie.

‘You think we’ll see you as less if we call you “Pixie”?’ he asks, laughing as he shakes his head. ‘I’ll call youwhatever you like. It doesn’t matter. How we feel won’t change because of a name. So you can carry on calling me “Dream Walker”. Or calling Archie “Wolf” and Dorian “Shadow Master”. It doesn’t matter. You can’t dehumanise us because we are not human. And we meant what we said in the forest. We love-’

I wince and hiss as my teeth sharpen and cut my lip.

I look away, not wanting him to see my complete lack of control. His hand guides my face back. He watches the blood drip down my chin before catching it with his thumb and resting the pad of it on my sharpened tooth.

‘You need to learn control,’ he says. ’ We can’t have you flashing your fangs all over the place.’

‘I tried. They just keep popping out.’

‘Let me see them.’ When I try to pull away, he grips tighter and frowns. ‘Listen to me. I wasn’t asking. So quit making this difficult. Let me see them.’

I pull back my lip and open wider.

‘I still can’t believe you are like this.’

He says the words with admiration and intrigue. Not sadness or disappointment. He touches the sharpest points, piercing his own flesh as he does. Droplets of his blood land on my tongue, and I can’t help but take his thumb into my mouth and lick it clean. I do it before I can stop myself.

If it was even possible, the taste of him has improved since my transition. It’s hard not to cut him more as my lips seal around his thumb. The Dream Walker, however, seems determined I draw more blood, and he presses his thumb hard against my fang as he eases it in and out of my mouth. Darkness shimmers in his eyes as he watches whatI’m sure he wishes was an entirely different part of him in my mouth.

In and out, drawing more blood as my tongue eagerly swirls around his poor substitute.

I thought the lustful thoughts and feelings I had before were intense. Since I changed, it’s a hundred times worse. I clamp my thighs together, hoping he doesn’t smell it. They’re always talking about smelling me.

‘Your teeth are an extension of yourself,’ he says, watching my lips intently. ‘Like your fingers and toes. Your tongue and voice. Do you not control those parts of your body, Pixie?’ He opens my mouth wider and travels the pad of his thumb the length of my tongue. ‘Your teeth will sharpen when you feel extremes. When you are angry, your fists will ball up and lash out. As an infant, you had no control over this, but as you grew, you learned to control them. You once cried and screamed when you felt cold or hungry. You learned to control it. You can do the same with this. Now calm yourself and take command of your teeth.’

His thumb withdraws, and he places it into his mouth, sucking it clean.

I return to focusing on the challenge ahead.

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