Page 13 of Blood Lord

She stirs fitfully, and I lay next to her. The back of my throat burns, and every time she twists, her scent washes over me, making it worse.

My body is begging me to take her. I'm not sure which desire is greater, though: to sink my teeth in her neck or claim her body with mine. Ideally, I'd like to do both, feeding on her as I bring her to the point of ecstasy.

But it is clear that she has no energy to spare. She needs to rest, to recover from this spell, and if I were to push her too hard, I just may break her.

I do remember how fragile humans are. When I was first Made, they wouldn't allow me to drink from our living blood bags, saying that I didn't know my strength well enough. Instead, I was unleashed through the woods, before we were driven below the surface, and I tore through everything I could find with a pulse.

They were right to keep our precious cargo away from me. My hands broke bones as I greedly fed, and the humans would not have survived me.

As I gained control over myself, they allowed me to siphon a little off the humans until I proved I knew where to stop. I could feed off of them without draining them. But we had a rotation. Every human had a limited amount of time to be fed off of over the course of several weeks. Overindulging would drain them as well. It seemed that even if they had blood in their bodies, it wasn't enough to keep them alive.

It is that knowledge that keeps me from piercing Selene's neck. My body is so drawn to her, her scent calling me. It's like her body was made to beg me to take her; I am designed to claim her. And it is killing me to keep myself in check.

"I will wait," I promise Selene. "I will wait until you wake, until you feel well again before I show you the pleasures a vrakken can offer." I brush her hair back. "Oh, Selene. The things I can offer you."

Her slight whimper is nearly my undoing.

8

Selene

The ground is cool beneath me, which should have been my first reminder that I was not in my tent. At the circus, the ground was either scratchy or hot, and the same for the few pieces of furniture I sometimes was allowed to sleep on.

But it doesn't register as odd so much as a relief. It's not until I stretch out, slowly opening my eyes and expecting to see stretched canvas above me that I still.

The roof above me is not one of a tent. I don't know what it is. I almost think it's a cave, but the quartz croppings that cover the interior makes me question it. Especially when I start to notice how they pulse, different colors vibrating through them.

I've never seen anything like it.

I lift my head slowly, seeing the most that cascades down the side pulsing, too. In fact, it feels like everything around me is…alive.

I must have hit my head or something. But as I push myself up, flickers of the night before start to flash in my mind. I remember Aaron stumbling at me drunk, massive wings, and then nothing.

Groaning softly, my eyes sweep what is a cave, albeit a very strange one. It's all rock with an open mouth that seems to lead out into a forest, but the flashing quartz and moving moss covers every surface. My body trembles as it struggles against the intensity of the charged elements.

I don't remember this cave. I don't remember ever leaving the circus, in fact. Digging in my memory, another one surfaces: Aaron's dead.

I press the back of my hand to my mouth, muffling a soft cry. Aaron's dead because of some winged creature and then I passed out. And now, I don't know where I am.

Shaking my head, tears start to prick at my eyes.Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. This isn't good.

A small part of me wants to bolt. I see my escape right there, and even though I have no idea where I am, I am certain that running through the woods is better than sitting prey.

But even if I go back to the circus, will Nielmor believe my story? I have to hope that his soft spot for me extends to bending the rules for me. He'll have to know that I wouldn't just disappear.

Even as I think it, I feel the inclination not to move. I don't know what I could run into there, and while the winged creature did kill Aaron, I am perfectly safe. He was saving me, actually, now that I think of it. Aaron was lunging at me when he landed.

Easing my shaky nerves, I sweep my eyes around the cave again, taking in my surroundings as best as I can. It's dim in here, but the quartz helps me see.

The cave extends back further than I had originally recognized, and what I thought had just been dark stone is actually thick shadows. Peering at the back of the cave harder, I make out the shape of a tall man with wings. He must be the one that saved me.

And while I am scared and don't understand where I am, I have to hope at least that his intentions for me are good. Otherwise, wouldn't I be hurt or chained up or dead? Maybe my radar for dangerous things is skewed because of the dark elves, but the way he regards me doesn't look dangerous.

"Hi," I whisper, my throat extremely dry. I try to clear it, offering him a smile. "You're the one that saved me from Aaron, right?" The man just stares at me blankly. "I didn't get a chance to thank you, but I truly appreciate what you did back there. I'd hate to know what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in."

Maybe it's my imagination, but I swear his hands tighten into fists. Is he angry at me or at what happened with Aaron? My curiosity grows more than my fear, and I lean in, wanting to get a better look at him. I have so many questions, so I take a chance.

"Can you come closer? I want to see your face." Right now, I can only make out his face shape, and the light occasionally catches the glint of his eyes.

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