I bare my fangs and sink them into his neck. His scream pierces the air as my venom floods his system. I feel his body convulse against mine, every muscle seizing in agony.
"Rip open your wrist," Nyx says behind me. "He needs to ingest your blood or you'll just kill him."
Feeling nauseous, I bring my wrist to my mouth and rip it open, pressing it to his lips and forcing the blood to pour into his mouth. He chokes and gags, but I don't stop.
The man's skin begins to pale, taking on an almost translucent quality. His bones crack and shift beneath his flesh, eliciting howls of pain that echo off the chamber walls. I hold him steady, feeling every tremor, every spasm.
Blood vessels burst beneath his skin, creating a network of dark lines across his body. His eyes roll back in his head as he thrashes wildly, foam flecking his lips. The stench of sweat and fear is overwhelming.
As his back arches unnaturally, I hear the sickening sound of tissue tearing. Two bloody protrusions burst from his shoulderblades - the beginnings of wings. The man's screams reach a fever pitch, his voice growing hoarse.
The process seems to last an eternity. I hold the man as he writhes and screams, feeling every moment of his agony. My own memories of the Change flood back, threatening to overwhelm me.
Finally, mercifully, he falls still. I lay him gently on the ground, my hands shaking. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths - he's alive, but barely.
I look up at Nyx, my voice barely a whisper. "Is it... is it always like this?"
Her eyes are cold as she responds, "Every time. And you'll do it again, Christos. As many times as necessary."
The weight of her words crashes over me. This is my future - inflicting this torture, again and again. Nyx will have me fly across borders and islands, pull people from across countries so we aren't detected. And every time, there will be people who don't survive.
I stare at the Changed man on the floor, his body twisted and broken. I think back to the guards that almost killed Aria.
I think about the human I am hiding in my cabin, praying no one will find her even though I've brought her somewhere deadly.
What have I become?
8
ARIA
Maybe I shouldn't, but I am unbelievably attracted to Christos. His athletic build, bright green eyes, and thick, wavy dark hair would have any girl falling for him.
But I can't shake the feeling that he's hiding something. He disappears frequently, gone for nearly a day, and won't tell me where he's been. He just tells me not to leave.
Every time he returns from one of his mysterious trips, his eyes are shadowed, his shoulders slumped. But as soon as he sees me, his face lights up, and my heart skips a beat.
"You're back," I say, unable to keep the relief from my voice.
He nods, running a hand through his dark hair. "I am. Did you stay inside like I asked?"
I bristle at the question. "I'm not a child, Christos. I can take care of myself."
His lips quirk into a half-smile. "I don't doubt that for a second."
I want to press him for answers, to unravel the mystery surrounding him and this place. But something in his expression stops me. Instead, I find myself drawn to him, noticing the way his pale skin seems to glow in the dim light of the cabin.
"Are you okay?" I ask, stepping closer. I'm not even sure why I care. "You look... drained."
Christos tenses, then forces a smile. "I'm fine. Just tired."
I reach out, my fingers brushing his arm. He flinches, but doesn't pull away. "You can talk to me, you know. Whatever's going on, I want to help."
His green eyes lock with mine, filled with an intensity that takes my breath away. "Aria, I—" He stops, shaking his head. "It's complicated. And dangerous. The less you know, the safer you are."
"I'm a journalist, Christos. Danger is part of the job description."
He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that sends shivers down my spine. "You're something else, you know that?"