“We can’t risk it,” Valen says after a moment. “I haven’t drank freely, let alone straight from a human, in a long time. Even with you having a mate, which would naturally repel me, I could kill you.”
Pulling myself to his side so we’re eye to eye, I plead with him.
“Please. It’s the only chance we have.” Sticking out my wrist I can see the hunger simmering in his brown eyes. “I would rather die trying to get free than to let them do whatever it is they plan with me.”
Valen seems to have an internal struggle with himself. Just when I think he isn’t going to do it, he grips my wrist gently with a withered hand. Fangs peek out from around his lip, and he shudders in anticipation of his meal. Lifting my wrist to his mouth he takes one last deep breath before striking.
This might be a horrible decision. I realize belatedly that as starving as he has to be, there’s probably a good chance he could drain me.
The pain is sharp, and once my blood hits his tongue he seems to lose himself in it. A low groan hums against my skin. When I pull away on instinct, he grips it tighter, and I wince.
Greedy pulls feel odd as my blood leaves my body to sustain his. I might be crazy, but more color seems to flood his cheeks with each gulp.
In a show of great control, Valen pulls away and licks the last few drops of blood that remain from the puncture wounds. Releasing a large breath, he drops my arm with a pat.
“Thank you, Celine.” His words are heavy with reverence, and I know we’re starting to form a kinship no one else will ever fully understand.
Time passes and I lose track of how long I’ve been down here. Has it been hours, days, a week? Nobody comes for us, and I start to lose it with the constant drip of water against stone and the frigid temperature that has my teeth chattering. I’d rather be subject to Ava’s ministrations than deal with this any longer. Don’t even get me started on the pee bucket. Valen doesn’t show any outward sign of discomfort, seeming used to the environment and whatever torture has been inflicted on him.
I’ve attempted to sleep multiple times and doze here and there but it’s fitful and I constantly jerk awake at even the smallest sound. The musty air feels heavy in my lungs and my clothes are damp against my skin making it hard to get comfortable. I’m worried if I stay wet, I’ll get sick but that’s the least of my problems at the moment.
I’ve fed Valen off and on as time passes in the hopes of slowly increasing our odds of escape. He looks better each time, although I know he’s going to need much more once we get out. The only caveat is I get weaker in turn.
I’m closing my eyes to try for sleep once again when a door slams against its hinges somewhere above us. Shooting up, I tuck myself in the shadows of my cell as much as I can hoping to observe our visitor.
Valen merely opens one brown eye and shuts it at the sound. So used to his miserable existence down here, it seems like the man can’t be subjected to anything worse than he’s already been through.
Heels tap along the floor in a rhythmic sound and draw ever closer with each breath I take. I squint to try and make out the figure, but can’t see a thing even with being down here as long as I have, and my eyes adjusting.
A soft whistle echoes through the chamber, and though soft and lilting, it sounds more like a hymn of death.
“Poor little Celine. Caught in a cage like the pathetic rat she is.”
Every muscle in my body tenses at the familiar voice.
Stopping in front of my cell, my eyes travel up from the knee length boots, tight pants, and blouse. Black hair, brown eyes, and a malicious smirk complete the picture that is Genevieve. Gone is the sobbing young woman from the station and here is an apex predator with her eyes on her next meal.
The dangerous glint in her eyes is terrifying to see and she must watch my perusal of her, reveling in the big reveal, because she flashes a fang.
Any words I might say are stuck in my throat.
So, itwasher voice I heard before.
She was behind my kidnapping? Why?
“I can tell just from looking at you you’re wondering, why me?” she says mockingly. Squatting down she watches with feline grace. “You have something that belongs to me.”
My brows furrow, confusion sliding through me. “What could I possibly have that you want?” I spit out, finally finding some gumption within myself.
“Think about it.” She wraps blood red nailed fingers around the bars and tilts her head to watch me work through it. Her smile is downright maniacal. It has me feeling extremely uneasy. "Come on, Celine, prove to me you’re not a total dummy.”
“Crazy cunt,” Valen mutters from next to us. I momentarily forgot he existed with the Genevieve revelation.
“Ah, sweet and pathetically sad Valen,” she mocks with an exaggerated pout and takes his insult in stride. “I’m not the one caged down here, now am I?” He doesn’t grace her with a reply and instead covers his eyes with a thin forearm to block her out. “I’m going to have to tell your handler to treat you extra nice the next time they come for you,” she titters gleefully.
Valen shivers at the statement, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s down here for, and what they do to him.
“Back to you.” Genevieve’s soulless eyes bore into mine.