Page 24 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

The smell of cherries on her breath is overwhelming, and my tongue leisurely swipes across her bottom lip to get a taste. A groan rumbles in my chest, and her legs tighten around my waist.

I never thought there would be anything stronger than the urge to kill.

Until I tasted her.

I’d die to be inside of her. Consuming her. Beneath her fucking skin. To feel her clench around me in ecstasy as her blood poured into my throat like ambrosia.

Which I have every intention of doing, regardless of the consequences, until her phone starts ringing. The loud, piercing ringtone clears the fog of desire and flicks the switch back off inside me.

I jerk back from her tightly wound body, pushing a frustrated hand through my hair as I release a heavy breath. Her face is flushed, and her teeth hold that bottom lip hostage.

“Why won’t you—”

“You should answer that,” I interject, not trusting myself to fall into conversation again, seeing Briar’s name light up the screen. “Could be about the Halo.”

I turn on my heel, forgetting my coffee. Nothing is more important than putting distance between the two of us.

“Thatcher, wait,” she tries, and I hear her slide off the counter, but I don’t turn around.

I can’t turn around because I will regret what happens after.

So I keep walking. I keep moving forward until I’m back inside my room and the door is locked. My head throbs as if my brain is splitting in two. It’s too much—all of this rumbling inside is too much.

I know who I am.

What I am capable of.

Yet my mind is always left spiraling when I leave Lyra. She does this to me and always leaves me with the same question.

Who am I when I’m with her?

GIRLS’ NIGHT

SEVEN

Lyra

“Why do they always make it so obvious who’s going to survive at the end? And why can’t everyone live? Makes no sense.”

Sage pulls the throw pillow tighter to her chest, half covering her face with it, tucking her feet underneath her on the love seat, as if hiding herself will prevent the creature in the film from jumping through the screen.

“Someone has to die, but they want you to have someone to root for. If not, the horror aspect is pointless.” I bite into a Twizzler, chewing on the gummy candy. “There is no fear without a little hope.”

I stretch my feet out in front of me, wiggling my toes towards the roaring fireplace. While I sit on the floor atop a pile of blankets, Briar lies horizontally behind me, curled in a blanket on the couch.

“It’s not even that scary,” she murmurs behind me, and I lean my back against the couch, looking over at her face.

I snort. “Your boyfriend tried to kill you. Of course the demon in the forest doesn’t freak out the girl with a fear fetish.”

Briar gasps, a grin on her face as she playfully nudges the back of my head with her foot. “Low fucking blow, Abbott.”

“It’s true,” I mutter, taking another bite of my candy.

She just smiles, rolling her eyes, because a part of her knows I’m right. But that doesn’t matter. It’s her happiness, genuine and light. Lately, we all walk around with this weight, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Someone to go missing. A friend to die.

Even though we’re more than aware tonight was a ploy set up by Rook and Alistair to have us all safe, in one place, while they spent the day twenty miles from Ponderosa Springs.

Today had been marked on the calendar in Stephen’s office, the one I’d stumbled upon. The guys felt like this was our best bet, and even though my friends were nervous for them, we all agreed. We’ve yet to hear anything from them besides updates on their safety, but so far, terminal thirteen, the shipping port on the coast, hasn’t brought any proof, nothing solid enough to hand over to the police.

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