Page 42 of Thorn of Sorrow

Dread pooled in my stomach, especially when I noticed his slight trembling Thoughts began to flood my mind more quickly, and I struggled to concentrate on anything in my room. My eyes kept darting around, as though they were looking for something, but I already knew... “I really died, didn’t I?”

His arms tightened, his chin resting on my shoulder.

“Giovanni?” I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to hear the truth, but I needed to know. “That vampire killed me, didn’t he?”

Air shoved past my lips too fast, too sharp, my chest barely expanding before the next breath forced its way out. The room wavered around me, edges blurring.

“Please, petit oiseau, don’t make me answer.” His warmth pressed into me, but it couldn’t stop the cold creeping through my skin.

I rested my trembling hands on his back, my cheek on his shoulder, unable to think.

The vampire had killed me.

I died.

“How long h-have I s-slept?” I swallowed roughly, trying my hardest to think of something else, anything else, but my brain refused to cooperate. My chest felt like it had collapsed inward, every breath jagged and shallow.

“Two days.” A slight tremor ran through his voice.

“How long have you been at my bedside?” I’d started to rub his back without realizing it.

“Two days.”

Giovanni had stayed with me the entire time. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d gone through when I...

I died.

This had to be a bad dream. Any moment I would wake up to find I’d dozed after we’d made love. But why would I dream of… something like that? Although I’d suffered throughout my life, I’d never had a morbid imagination.

My focus strayed to the wall past his shoulder where I had a small bookshelf. I glanced over the spines, trying to concentrate on the titles, trying to give my mind something else to latch onto besides the kitchen.

I died.

The trembling in my hands spread, rippling through me until every limb shook.

I died.

A strange noise caught in my throat, but I forced myself to pay attention to the books.

The sound refused to die, growing until it spilled out as a whimper. The shaking deepened, unraveling into unsteady tremors.

I died.

The whimpers stretched, rising higher until they broke into keening.

Giovanni pulled me closer, as if afraid the tremors might tear me from his arms.

“I died!”

I-I couldn’t breathe. The keening broke into a wail.

Tremors wracked me, forcing him to pin me down. I thrashed, clawing at him, desperate to escape the corner.

Giovanni wasn’t going to make it in time!

“No!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, swinging blindly. His hands locked on me, those teeth gleaming under the kitchen light. He was going to have to fight for what he wanted to take.

My life.

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