Page 8 of Just One Bite
“What’s your name?” I inch closer until her back is against a tree.
Her scent calms when we’re alone, and I can’t take it anymore. I test herreaction with a brush of my fingers against her arm. We tense together but melt in the next breath.
What is this? I’ve never felt this type of yearning before. There isn’t a word for it.
Closer. Please.I swear her voice is calling to me, but I can’t hear her. Her pupils dilate, and the hairs raise on her arms. She’s trapped against a tree, and I still have this ridiculous mask on.
“You’re not scared?” I ask.
Her heart hums in a cadence that feels oddly familiar. The entirety of her is familiar, though I know I’ve never met her before.
I cup her cheek, and she tenses, then leans into me ever so slightly. Excitement bubbles in my stomach at the warmth of her skin.
“No,” she spits back.
“Then tell me your name.”
“I don’t give my name to random masked men.”
“But you’ll let them touch you?”
We’re leaning into one another like we aren’t strangers. Like touching our lips together right here, right now wouldn’t be insane. Her blood pumping beneath her skin is so sweet, but there’s another scent settling in my chest. It’s the warm comfort of safety. I toy with a strand of her hair and drag my fingers lower, barely grazing her skin at the hem of her sweater. Her breath hitches.
My long breaths mirror hers, so I close the remaining distance till we’re hip to hip and my hands move up beneath her sweater. And she’s letting me, like we’re the only two people who exist. As her eyes shut, I come to one troubling conclusion: I want to mark her.
I’ve never felt the urge, but now the need to sink my teeth into her is unbearable.
This girlhasto be mine.
A scream rings through the air. It must be one of her sisters because she becomes lucid and shoves me away.
I’m dazed as she disappears from view.
Well, shit.
Chapter Three
Olivia
I tear through the clearing of trees along the lit path, passing a few groups of students till there are none, with the light from the moons casting a glow over the cobblestone.
“Eva! Emma!”
Nothing.
I run till my heeled shoes rub the back of my ankles raw and I heave for breath. Stopping in a dim clearing in the trees, I take in my reality.
I’m alone. The chiming laughter and cheers that were once close have dissipated. There’s music just beyond the trees, but I haven’t run into any new scarers jumping from the trees or lingering first-years. My stomach sours, and I dust off my skirt to get my bearings and catch my breath.
In the dense wood, a twig snaps.
Doxlothia is safe. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
As I turn to the path forward, a shadowed figure strolls in. They’re slender and wearing a blazer, with hands in their pockets.
If Doxlothia isn’t safe, that unfortunately means my dad was right, and I’m not about to come to that conclusion so easily. So I keep my feet firmly planted.
“Well, hello there.” A man with silver hair emerges wearing a plum blazer and slacks, brushing off his shoes as he comes to stand in front of me. He's ghostly pale.
