Page 40 of Tangle of Lust and Lethargy

My world spun as I was slammed against something unyielding. The impact rattled my bones and sent shockwaves of pain through me. My vision swam, unable to focus on anything but the face inches from mine.

Justice’s eyes burned with an inhuman hunger. His lips curled into a cruel smirk as he spoke, his voice dripping with malice. “Prepare to meet Jesus.”

Time seemed to slow as he threw his head back. Moonlight glinted off his fangs, now fully extended and razor-sharp. True fear gripped me, squeezing the air from my lungs.

Then came the pain.

Justice’s fangs tore into my flesh with savage brutality. This wasn’t the gentle, almost hesitant bite I’d experienced before. This was primal, cruel, designed to inflict maximum suffering. I gasped, the agony stealing my voice.

He sucked hard, greedily drinking my blood. Each pull sent waves of dizziness washing over me. Yet, as my strength ebbed away, I didn’t fight him. I couldn’t. My entire being was focused on one desperate hope. That somehow, this would break through the spell.

As my consciousness faded, a single tear escaped, trailing down my cheek. With the last of my strength, I whispered, “Justice, no matter what happens…I love you.”

My legs gave way, and my head lolled back. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d spent my entire life trying not to become my mother, determined not to die at the hands of a vampire. Yet here I was, with history cruelly repeating itself.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, and a montage of memories flashed before me. My mother’s smile. The first time I met Justice. All the moments that led to this point.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever came next. Would I see my mom again? The thought brought a strange mixture of comfort and regret.

Then, as the last threads of consciousness slipped away, everything went dark.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Drink,” a voice commanded, piercing the thick veil of darkness enveloping me.

I tried to turn my head to escape the insistent tone, but firm hands held my neck in place. Pain pulsed at my throat, a dull, persistent throb that echoed through my being. Every part of me felt hollow, as if my essence had been drained away. A chilling thought crept into my mind. Was this what death felt like?

“You’re mine, Sawyer. I demand that you drink.” The words cut through my haze of confusion. That voice. Strong, possessive, achingly familiar.Justice?

My heart leaped at the thought, hope and fear mingling in a dizzying cocktail. This was the Justice I knew, the vampire I had fallen in love with. His tone brooked no argument, filled with a fierce protectiveness that resonated deep within me.

Almost against my will, my lips parted. Something pressed gently against my mouth, and a flood of liquid cascaded over my tongue. The taste was indescribable. Sweet yet spicy, rich and complex. It spilled down my throat and chin, and with each drop, a spark of life reignited within me.

Instinct took over. I drank greedily, desperately, as if this mysterious elixir was my only lifeline in a stormy sea. Witheach swallow, I felt strength seeping back into my limbs, chasing away the numbing cold that had gripped me.

“Stop.” Justice’s voice cut through again, gentle but firm. “Wake up, Sawyer.”

My eyelids fluttered, feeling impossibly heavy. I fought against the lingering darkness, clawing my way back to consciousness. Finally, my eyes opened and immediately locked with Justice’s dark gaze.

What I saw there nearly took my breath away. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears. The depth of emotion in them—guilt, relief, love—was staggering.

“Sawyer, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with anguish. “I don’t know what came over me. Can you ever forgive me?”

As he spoke, I became aware of strange sensations rippling through my body. The wounds on my neck tingled, an odd feeling of flesh knitting back together. It should have hurt, but instead, it felt almost soothing. With each passing moment, strength flowed back into me, chasing away the lingering weakness.

I wanted to speak, to reassure Justice, but my mind was reeling. The memory of his savage attack clashed violently with the tender concern he now showed. Confusion warred with relief, love with lingering fear.

As I lay there, caught between Justice’s remorseful gaze and the miraculous healing of my body, one thought crystallized. We had broken the spell, but at what cost? And where did we go from here?

I raised my hand toward Justice, my fingers trembling with exhaustion and lingering fear. The simple act felt monumental, bridging the chasm that had formed between us in those terrifying moments.

Justice’s brimming eyes tracked my hand’s movement. His expression was a tapestry of emotions, hope warring with self-loathing, love intertwined with crushing guilt. My palm neared his face, and he hesitated for a heartbeat as if afraid his touch might shatter me.

Then, with infinite gentleness, he pressed his lips to my palm. The kiss was feather-light, almost reverent. I felt the slight tremor in his lips, the way he inhaled as if trying to memorize my scent. It was a gesture of apology, of supplication, of a love so deep it transcended the horror.

The warmth of his breath against my skin grounded me, chasing away the last wisps of that terrible darkness. I found my voice, surprised by its steadiness despite the turmoil roiling within me.

“I forgive you,” I murmured, each word weighted with conviction. I pressed on, needing him to understand. “This wasn’t your fault. It was Maci and the lust demons.”

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