Page 42 of Donovan
Donovan had suggested a walk earlier, and despite my initial hesitation, I agreed.
We couldn’t stay holed up in that cabin forever, and after everything that had happened between us last night, things between us felt… different. Better.
He wasn’t leaving. He was staying with me. That knowledge settled something deep inside me, quieting the storm of doubt that had been raging for days.
We walked side by side along the worn dirt path, the sounds of the forest around us a quiet lull.
Donovan’s arm brushed against mine, and a second later, his fingers slipped into my hand, twining together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t hesitate and squeezed his hand back. His touch was warm, grounding. A tether to something real in a world that had felt so uncertain.
For a while, we walked in silence, simply existing in the moment. But reality had a way of creeping back in. I glanced at him, studying the way the fading light caught in his eyes.
“We can’t keep hiding out here forever,” I said finally, my voice quiet but firm. “We need a plan, Donovan. What’s our next move? Are we going back to the States, or are we staying in Europe?”
He exhaled through his nose, lips pressing together in thought. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, cutting him off. A second later, a low, guttural growl followed.
My entire body stiffened. Another rabid vampire? Just how many of these things were out there?
Vampires, like shifters, were social creatures by nature. They thrived in nests, ruled by a vampire king or queen, their instincts wired for hierarchy and order.
But these rabid ones… had they once belonged to a nest?
Had their leader, whoever had kept them in check, been wiped out, leaving them to spiral into madness with no one to reel them back in?
The thought sent an icy chill down my spine.
Because if that was the case, then there could be more. More vampires slipping into this mindless, feral state, more creatures driven only by hunger and bloodlust.
I barely had time to react before Donovan was running like the reckless, stubborn bastard he was.
“Donovan!” I barked, but he didn’t stop.
I swore and bolted after him.
His arm was still healing, for heaven’s sake. He wasn’t in any condition to fight, even if he’d been smart enough to bring one of his hunting knives.
But a single blade wouldn’t be enough against a feral, not if it was as crazed as the ones we’d fought before.
The forest blurred around me as I pushed harder, dodging branches and weaving through trees, my senses honing in on the sounds ahead.
A second growl echoed, closer this time.
Then I saw a woman in her late twenties. She was pale, wide-eyed, bleeding, scrambling backward as a vampire crouched low in front of her, its movements jerky and unnatural.
It was gone,lost to its hunger, its lips curled back over sharp, stained fangs. A snarl rumbled from its throat, its limbs coiling like a spring, preparing to pounce.
Donovan didn’t hesitate.
He was already moving, already drawing his blade and lunging before I could reach him.
“Donovan, wait!”
Too late. His knife slashed through the air, catching the rabid just as it lunged. The blade sank deep into its side, but the thing barely reacted, its hunger overriding any pain.
It swung wildly, claws flashing. Donovan barely managed to dodge. I hit the scene a second later, and I didn’t think. I just moved.
My body collided with the rabid’s, slamming it sideways, sending both of us crashing to the ground. Snarling, it twisted beneath me, its fangs snapping inches from my face.
