Page 39 of Taste of Death

Not that Novak loved me. No way, that was ridiculous. But he did at least like me enough to accommodate my weirdness about drinking blood directly from a vein.

Although the more I thought about it, the more curious I grew. I might like to try drinking from a wrist as long as it was his.

“This blood ritual has always fascinated me.” Novak’s gaze was riveted to the stage. “Their blood is mixed together in the bowl and some herbs are added, all while Ruslan says an incantation over it. Then she drinks it.” He narrated the actions as they happened. “And just like that, her lifespan is tied to his. She will live for centuries. And when they die, it’ll be together.”

“That’s actually really romantic.” I watched Tavia’s throat work as she tipped the bowl back, swallowing the contents.

“Maybe,” Novak mused. “But is it actually blood magic or based in science? Is there some kind of chemical reaction that happens, or is Ruslan truly channeling Temkra’s power?”

“Typical male response to romance.”

Novak chuckled, the sound dying away as Tavia finished drinking the concoction, the ritual complete. She and Cyan stared at each other for a beat before closing the small distance between them in a kiss that was equally fierce and tender. Cheers and applause erupted as those two became lost in the world of each other.

“They do seem well-matched.” Novak’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “Give them my well-wishes.”

“Yeah,” I said blankly.

I was oddly entranced while watching Tavia and Cyan. They held each other tightly and kissed, spoke some words, smiled, and kissed again. Cyan’s face was reverent, his forehead seared to hers. I was too far away to be sure, but there may have been tears in his eyes. He looked at Tavia like she was a goddess who walked the earth. Like he would devote every breath and beat of his heart to her happiness.

God, how did it feel to have someone look at you like that? To know beyond any doubt that someone loved you that much?

I was happy for Tavia. She had been my biggest defender as we grew up, literally. Bullies pushed me around because of my asthma and how small I was, and she pushed them right back because I was never strong enough to do it myself. She deserved more than anyone to have a partner who fought for her.

But where did that leave me? And would I ever find someone who felt that way about me? My happiness for her fit right alongside the hollow emptiness I felt for myself.

“Hey.” Novak nudged his knee against mine. “Want to get out of here?”

I wrenched my gaze away from the dais, turning to him. “Yes, please.”

He held out his elbow, prompting me to take his arm. “Let’s go.”

I hugged my arm around his bicep and together we walked out into the night.

Chapter 12

Novak

“Ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

Amy shot me an apprehensive look as she walked next to me. “No.”

“Would you like to?” I dug out my keys, tossed them in the air, and caught them. “The night is young, and it’s not too cold.”

We walked a few more steps down the cobblestones of the oldest neighborhood in the Heart, approaching my home.

“Okay, fuck it. Why not?” Amy said.

She seemed distracted, maybe a little wistful. She’d been in a cheery mood when I’d arrived for the ceremony, but by the time it ended, she was noticeably more withdrawn. Maybe she thought her friendship with Tavia would take a backseat now that she was officially mated.

From what I gathered, Amy was also a bit of a romantic. Did she wish for a relationship like what Tavia and Cyan had? I mean, who fucking didn’t?

A blood mate was rare, but a long-lasting romance filled with passion, love, and devotion? Before witnessing the ceremony today, I wasn’t sure such a thing existed at all.

There was no love between my parents, or even between my father and his primary blood pet. She’d had good genes for breeding, so he fucked her until they made my half-brother. That heir, the golden child, was one of my biggest tormentors.

My mother may have loved me. Our household staff said she was sweet and soft-spoken, but Rathka’s Curse took her before I reached adulthood at one hundred. My memories of her were vague at best. My brother’s mother made her resentment of me extremely clear. She made sure to let me know how much she hated my existence simply because my father paid attention to another woman who wasn’t her.

I pulled my focus from those thoughts as I unlocked my garage door. Dwelling on my past would send me spiraling if I ruminated too much, and I wanted to enjoy the rest of this night.

---