Page 26 of Moon Bound

“I will hunt down every mother fucker who has ever made you feel worthless and rip their throats out,” Jax growls protectively. Little does he know, I did just that yesterday. I stroke my hands over his back, feeling the evidence of my attack, although Jax visibly relaxes and continues through gritted teeth. “I want you so fucking bad, Aspen. Your mind, your body, your soul, and everything that comes along with it. I knew the moment I met you, my world would be turned upside.” His full grin is deadly, full of threats I want to see through to the end.

“Bite me, for fuck’s sake.” I avoid his sentiment, offering him my neck. His dick is still nestled into me, rock-hard and ready to go again. “Unless Chase and Torst have something to say about it.” Across the room, a pair of shadows step free from the corner beside a looming wardrobe. Torsten’s white hair hangs forward in shame of watching, but Chase has no such qualms.

“No arguments here, as long as I get a turn,” Chase smirks mischievously. A turn at my neck or my pussy, I’m not sure to which he was referring, and honestly, I don’t fucking care.

Chapter16

Jaxon

I’m starving. Not in the,damn, I could really use a blood bag,kind of way. But in the actual,I’m going to starve to death, and all of this will have been for nothing, sense.

Upon arriving in the dungeons, we were shown to our individual cells and locked inside. That was around four days ago if I’m keeping count correctly. It’s hard to tell with the lack of windows or guests in our underground prison. Unlike the modernized version of a dungeon, with all hi-tech locks and glass doors, we’ve been abandoned in the archaic part of the underground tunnels. These cells haven’t had captives in decades, but I can still pick up on the shifter blood that once coated the stone walls.

I’ve always considered myself a patient male, able to endure the urges others barely control. But this is different. The gut-wrenching hunger tearing me apart makes it impossible to hold onto thoughts of my night with Aspen. The ones which may have seen me through if my stomach wasn’t trying so hard to cave in on itself.

Still, the flashes of her legs straddling my waist and her white hair tumbling over her shoulder, stroking my abdomen while those navy eyes, like the midnight sky speckled with golden stars, consumed me, were keeping me sane. If only, just.

She could be my mate, my entire universe if I prove myself worthy. I’m not like Chase, not even Torsten. Convincing myself that I’m enough is nothing but a hollow promise until I win the trials. Aspen deserves a champion, and that’s exactly what I’ll be for her.

Instead, I’m stuck here. In a world of reverse psychology, fighting for the very woman I could die thinking of. Not knowing where she is now, if she’s safe, and what’s happening in the world above our heads. That’s the worst part. I can’t protect her down here. None of us can.

Sitting on the uneven, rocky floor in the dark, like rats waiting for scraps. Nothing in my centuries of life has ever felt so degrading as this. The most elite of us left to suffer. I have considered that Lorcan found out after our escapades with Aspen and has decided to end the trial permanently, although that wouldn’t explain Carrick’s presence.

“Tor-” I croak through a throat as dry as the desert. Up to this point, groans from the adjacent cells have kept me company, but it’s their silence that has become unnerving. “Ch…Chase?” Nothing. No replies. I curse mentally, drawing my eyelids closed.

Four. Fucking. Days. Lorcan’s most trained and ferocious warriors, locked up and starved deep under the castle. If anyone decides to attack the castle now, his strongest defenses are rotting away in cells, and it would take weeks for us to recover, if we ever do.

Most Vamps would be fully decomposed by now. These cells are built with thick silver bars, meaning we can’t touch them without melting the skin from our hands within seconds. Despite being able to see in the dark, the bleakness of our surroundings weighs too heavily. Occasionally a drip of rainwater leaks through the cracks in the ceiling, echoing painfully through my over-sensitized ears.

The inside of my throat is so raw that I struggle to draw breath, and swallowing is a fleeting memory. I know, without checking, that my cheeks have become hollow, my skin a pale shade of gray, and my eyes most likely have lost all of their coloring by now. Bones protrude in the areas where my skin has begun to shrink in on itself. Soon enough, there will be no coming back. In a day or so, I won’t be much more than a skeleton, incapable of movement or speaking. If only I had drunk from Aspen as she requested.

That thought sends another sharp wave of agony through my body. I can’t live in regret, not when I wrung Aspen of all the pleasure her body could offer. But drinking for her vein was a gift I couldn’t take. She may not understand our ways, and I’m not the asshole who’s going to use that against her.

As I lay back and rest my arms beneath my head, my deteriorating mind wonders. Drifting back and forth like tumbleweed, considering how the vampires have arrived at this precipice. How we’ve been driven to hiding in the mountains and risking our lives for the chance of finding a mate. Whether it be our fated mate or not, all many of us want to feel is love.

Some of our kind believe we shouldn’t hide any longer; venture into the human world to impregnate humans. I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. Genetically we’re the strongest beings on the planet, yet we’ve isolated ourselves and live in the shadows like parasites. And now I’ve felt what it’s like to have a female touch, worship, and pine for you, I can’t deny I want that for the rest of the species too.

It's not like it hasn’t been done before. We have our very own human experiment living right here in the castle we’ve claimed. It’s possible for daywalkers to be born, yet Lorcan refuses to admit it as a viable option. My mind shifts then, to dreams of being able to shed my UV affliction, for just one day. Beyond the stone wall surrounding the castle and its town, our land is so serene. Stunning in the moonlight, but I bet it’s nothing short of glorious in the sun’s rays. From the rugged mountain peaks and long sandy beaches to sparkling lakes and rivers, we truly do have the perfect place to keep to ourselves.

A muffled sound pulls me back from my thoughts, somewhere between a strangled cry and a grunt. With an embarrassing amount of effort, I shift onto my side and sigh. How much longer are we going to be stuck here? Footsteps echo from the staircase leading down into the dungeons, but I can’t move again to look. My muscles have seized into the fetal position, a rogue curse stuck in my throat. Inside my mind, I’m screaming, yet on the outside, I’m frozen in place. Keys jingle in the lock, the bars squeaking in protest as the door is yanked open. Thank fuck! But no one enters.

I vaguely hear each door opening and fight to part my lips, enough for noise to leak through. My jaw cramps, sweat beading my brow from pure concentration. Each time I try to desperately hold on to a coherent thought, it eludes me, and I'm mentally stretching my arms to grab it and pull it back.

Suddenly, something smacks me in the face. It falls against my cheek, soft and cold. Bit late for a cushion now, I think wryly, especially one that small. I don’t bother to open my eyes as the footsteps retreat, leaving me here to waste away. But then again... what's that smell?

I force a long inhale, dragging in the coppery scent until it hits the back of my throat. Holy shit, it’s blood. Not just any blood, the rarest type we stock - AB negative. I manage to crack an eyelid ever so slightly despite the slice of pain I didn’t think an eyelid could feel. There’s a full blood bag right beneath my nose, begging me to empty it. If only the guard who dropped it could have kindly uncapped the tube and fed me the way I damn deserve after all of this.

I attempt and fail to move my arms. As if I'm in a mental straitjacket, they refuse to respond. My little finger twitches but the rest of my hand is too depleted to move. I close my one open eye and push all my focus into moving something, anything. The strain I’m putting on my weak bones threatens to snap them, but that smell is sending me into a frenzy. I desperately try to wet my cracked lips with my tongue, but there’s no moisture to be found.

Eventually, after far too fucking long, I manage to shift half an inch forward and push my face down onto the blood bag. With pure determination and a shit load of pain, I curl back my top lip just enough to extend a fang and sink it into the outer sleeve barring me from the life-saving nectar inside. After a few tense seconds, the bag bursts and my cheek falls heavily onto the hard floor, shattering it on impact. Fuckingouch.

The scent overwhelms me as the blood covers half of my face, and I manage to draw some of the delicious liquid into my mouth. After I manage the first painful swallow, I start to come to life gradually until I'm sucking the blood from the grooves in the rock like a goddamn leech. This is beyond humiliating, but I can't bring myself to give a shit right this second.

Ignoring the mouthfuls of grime and grit, I'm forced to swallow down; I begin to feel a bit more myself. Still lying on the floor, I stretch my limbs until my organs are fully functional again, the way they should be. Wriggling my toes, rolling my ankles, and twisting my body around the cell until I feel well enough to sit up. I've already sucked the floor harder than a cheap hooker; I'm not going to put falling on my ass to today’s list of things to do.

At least another hour must pass while I, not so, patiently wait for my calf muscles to strengthen before I attempt to stand. With the cell door left wide open and no guard in sight, I can’t risk stumbling into the silver bars and adding third-degree burns to my recovering body. I’ll need to feed many more times before recovering enough to function as it is.

Pushing myself upright, I shuffle towards the exit, careful not to move too quickly, though desperation is clawing at me to be free of here. Every cell door in the row is wide open, but I can’t see or hear any movements inside. I stop, glancing at the staircase. Aspen will be up there, within reach. The woman I’ve been starved and tortured over. Love is a gift only twelve of our males will have the chance to claim, but my feet won’t move. Instead, they take me further into the dungeon to peer at the two males I care for lying deathly still on the stone floor with a full bag of blood next to each of them. Carrick is in the last cell at the end, the one I completely ignore.

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