Page 147 of Immortal Bastard

“It’s called innate intelligence,” he said, reading her mind and trailing his fingers through her hair as she rested in his arms. “Your body knows what it needs and it will make those unconscious choices for you.”

She supposed it was like choosing to breathe. Feeding was an involuntary act. She’d tried to control the primal instinct, but the dogmatic impulse would always be stronger than her will.

Christian breathed out a jagged breath. “Never again, Delilah. I forbid it.”

He wasn’t flaunting his authority. She’d truly scared him when she passed out.

She realized now how futile her resistance had been and agreed, “Never again.” She couldn’t go back to the shaky, malnourished, lethargic weakling she’d been. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Shh,” he gently caressed her cheek. “We’ve moved on. All is forgiven.” His smile was fragile, too delicate to reach his eyes.

She lifted her hands, admiring the healthy pink glow of her skin. Her plump veins darkened and her flesh no longer clung to the bone.

“It is God’s design.”

She didn’t need to assign miracles to a supreme being to believe they existed. He called it God, she called it nature, either way, her body just proved how seamlessly it could self-correct by design.

“I didn’t believe it would be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

Resting in the safety of his arms, she luxuriated in the overwhelming sense of completeness they shared. “Gratifying. It’s…undeniable.” For the first time since meeting him, she accepted what she’d become. “You truly did change me.”

“This was always who you were meant to be, Delilah.”

He was far from infallible. On the contrary, he was absolute, with far too many outdated views. She initially thought his claim about receiving a divine calling to find her was a lie, a misguided belief only a cult could justify. But now she wondered if it was true.

“You know, you’re always saying I’m yours, that God chose me for you. That I somehow saved you.”

“He did. Without you I would have been lost.”

“Did he?” She wondered. “Because you don’t seem like anyone who needed to be saved, Christian. And I’m beginning to think you got it backwards.”

“How so?”

“Maybe your God sent you to save me.”

He pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ll always save you, pintura. You have my heart and my protection, for all of eternity.”

She kissed him softly, her body fitting perfectly against his as they lay as one. Yin and yang. She was more content than she’d been in days—weeks even. Until she noticed something strange about her skin.

“What is it?” Christian sat up and looked at her arm where the vibrant indigo lotus had paled to a pallid cornflower blue.

“My tattoos are fading.”

He examined her arm. There was no denying it. Just as her saliva had healed his skin, his blood was regenerating hers. She’d been turning her piercings daily since she noticed these changes, afraid that those might heal as well.

“I’m being erased.”

“No, my love. You’re still here.”

He didn’t understand. Her tattoos were a part of her. They represented the identity she chose, not the crap she’d inherited. “Will they all disappear?” Would she disappear?

“I don’t have these answers for you.”

What was happening to her? Would the person she was a week ago recognize who she was today? No. The resounding answer came with little concern for her feelings, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She looked at her finger. The ladybug, her first tattoo and the oldest, was practically gone. “How do I stop it?”

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