It’s been three days since I fed from that elk. The hollow feeling in my bones is intensifying. The fangs hidden in my gums ache, as if it wasn’t enough that my entire body is begging for blood.
If the cut that made Riven bleed yesterday happened right now… I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.
Just the thought of it makes my stomach growl, as if the hollow bones and aching fangs wasn’t enough.
I sit up, rubbing my temples, trying to focus on anything but my sick, monstrous craving.
“The storm’s weakening,” Riven says, his voice tight as he stares through the ice. “Did you sleep well?”
“Well enough,” I say, and this time when my stomach twists, it isn’t from hunger.
It’s from fear.
Just a few more hours,I tell myself.I can make it a few more hours. Once we’re out there, I’ll figure something out. Find a way to feed without him seeing.
Or I could just tell him. Right here, right now, when we have a few hours left before having to leave this cave.
He’ll have to understand that this isn’t my fault. That I can’t control what I am. What Ineed.
After everything we’ve shared in this cave, maybe he won’t see me as a monster.
But he thought he was here with the Summer Fae changeling who has exceptional natural talent with her magic. The one who’s grown to trust him, and who he—hopefully—has also learned to trust.
He doesn’t know Sapphire, the vampire-fae hybrid. The monster who drained a dark angel dry. Who almost lost control and drainedhimdry.
The thought of him looking at me with disgust makes my heart ache with pain worse than the hunger rushing through my veins. Especially after the way he’s been looking at me in here—like I’m something precious. Something worth protecting.
Something possibly worthloving.
“We need to leave,” he says abruptly, making me jump where I’m sitting.
“But the stars aren’t out yet.” I frown. “I won’t know where to go?—”
I cut myself off, feeling like an idiot for speaking without thinking it through.
“You want to search for Ghost,” I realize. “Before sunset.”
“We’re weaker without him. More vulnerable. If something happened to him in that storm...” He swallows hard, tensing his jaw. “I need to know.”
“Then we’ll leave as soon as we can.” I push myself to my feet, ignoring the way my hunger makes me dizzy, and something flickers in his eyes—gratitude mixed with something deeper that makes my heart race.
“We have a bit more food,” he says. “Let’s eat, then head out.”
Food.
My stomach growls again.
If only he knew how much he was torturing me by mentioning it.
We gather our supplies, and Riven lowers the ice shield, revealing the aftermath of the storm.
The snow is piled in towering drifts, its surface smooth and unbroken. Ice clings to the trees, their branches heavy, some snapped under the weight. Strangest of all, the air is unnaturally still, as if the storm stole all the sound with it.
On top of everything, the weak afternoon sunlight makes me squint in a way that it never did back home.
Maybe because things are different in the fae realm.
Or maybe because I’m partly a creature of the night.