Page 110 of Illusory

‘Do it. Take me away.’

Gabriel cursed from somewhere over Trace’s shoulder as the temperature around us started to drop, and I knew he’d gotten my message. I knew he was going to take me someplace private where they couldn’t stop us, where he could give me all the things I was starving for. I knew—

My feet dropped to the ground as the cold left me almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“Going somewhere, angel?” said Dominic beside my ear.

My eyes flicked up to Dominic standing in front of me, keeping me steady on my feet as Gabriel dragged Trace away, ending our trip out of the basement before it could even get off the ground. I wanted to be mad at them for stopping us, to tell them right the hell off, but with the fire still raging inside me and Dominic standing so close to me with that deliciously crooked smirk on his mouth, I didn’t think. I just lunged at him.

It was only when he gripped my shoulders and stopped me that I realized I was trying to kiss him. Because obviously I’d completely lost my fucking mind.

“I…I’m…” I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind, but all it did was make the room spin around me even faster. I had no idea what had gotten into me just then. “I don’t think I feel very well.”

“That’s alright, angel. You did so good.” He brushed my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Why don’t you have a seat right here and rest a little,” he suggested and then started to guide me down to the ground.

Plopping my butt down, I propped my head back against the bars and closed my eyes, trying to stop the stars that were twinkling all around me. Everything had started and stopped so quickly that it must have given me whiplash. That coupled with the blood loss was the only thing that could explain the craziness that had just happened.

“Let me go! I said I’m fucking fine!” growled Trace, shoving Gabriel off him and then rushing over to where I was seated on the floor before kneeling on my other side. He hissed out a curse as he picked up my hand and held it in his. “I’m sorry, Jemma. I didn’t mean to—”

“She’s fine,” interrupted Dominic, his tone calm and reassuring. “She just needs a moment to adjust, and she’ll be as good as new. Isn’t that right, angel?”

I nodded without opening my eyes.

“I took too fucking much,” gritted Trace, already blaming himself as if I hadn’t been egging him on the whole time.

“Calm yourself, Romeo. You did no such thing,” assured Dominic as he continued to caress my cheek in slow, comforting strokes. “Something tells me her absence at breakfast this morning has more to do with this than anything else. Angel, did you bother to have anything to eat today?” he asked, his tone more pronounced then.

I shook my head that I hadn’t.

“That sort of defeats the purpose of compelling a personalchef for you, doesn’t it?”

My eyes opened at that, but only to glare at him for the reminder.

Dominic blinked, completely unaffected. “I’ll have her fix you something to eat right away.”

“Don’t bother,” I said and looked away when he narrowed his eyes on me. “I’m not hungry.”

In fact, I was fairly certain that anything I put in my stomach would probably make its way back up in very short order. I preferred not to put it to the test.

“If you won’t eat then you’ll need to heal the other way,” he said and then lifted his chin to Trace. “Go on.”

Trace nodded and then looked back at me as he brought his wrist up to his mouth and bit down into it. My attention fixed on the buds of blood blossoming against his skin, and I unconsciously licked my lips. It was only when he extended his wrist to me that I finally caught up with what was going on.

“No,” I hissed and pushed his wrist away like it was rat poison. “I’m not drinking your blood.”

“You need to heal,” reminded Dominic, his tone stern.

“I’m not going tobondhim to me and make his life even worse than it already is!” I stated emphatically.

“But I want to do this,” said Trace, his pupils dilating at his words—at the prospect of it.

“You’re high on my blood right now. You don’t know what you want.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. You don’t,” I shot back more firmly. “It’s not happening, Trace, so just drop it.”

“But you need to heal,” he argued, his forehead creased with concern for me. “Let me do this for you, Jemma. Let me make it better.”

---