Page 48 of Immortal Bastard

“Perhaps. But there’s no undoing what’s been done and, now you’re in no danger of becoming feeish.”

“Yes, but I have an angry female on my hands, which may be more hazardous.”

The bishop cocked his head and cleared his throat, drawing back his telepathic inspection. “How are you tolerating her hunger?”

Eleazar was so perceptive, it didn’t surprise Christian that he could sense such internal agony. Delilah had been starving herself for days. He had no idea how far she would go to punish him, but he already forgave her for whatever suffering may come. She was angry. Rightly so. However she needed to process her pain, he would process it with her as one.

“She needs time.”

“She needs food and fluids, Christian.”

“I’ve already forced enough on her.”

“You would be saving her from suffering. It’s your duty to protect her.”

“I’m aware of my duty and my right to run my home as I see fit.”

Family law forbade an outsider from commenting on any couple’s private conduct, whether married or mated. He believed she would eventually make the right choice. He just hoped she didn’t wait too long.

Eleazar held up his palms. “Fair enough. But might I suggest compulsion? She wouldn’t have to know.”

“How often do you lie to Larissa?”

The bishop grimaced. “You have a point.

“I’m hoping, in time, she comes to me willingly.”

Truth be told, immortals could go without nutrition for decades. He hoped she’d come to him before her body shut down to preserve energy. Desiccation was painful, and he wasn’t sure he could respect her choice if she took this self-harm that far. It could take a century or more for an immortal to actually starve to the point of death. She couldn’t possibly be that willful.

“Very well.” The bishop returned to the front door. “I’ll let you get back to your mate. Congratulations, my friend.”

“Thank you.” Christian walked the bishop out, his heart consumed with worry and his spirits too low to feel deserving of any praise.

Once back inside, he faced the den reluctantly. With a sigh, he slowly crossed the threshold. Delilah remained exactly where he left her, eyes closed but not asleep.

If they were companions, he’d tell her immortals could sense such things, but at the moment they seemed more like enemies, so he kept his knowledge to himself. Their mental link was the only connection they shared, and he did not want to lose that as well.

The purple hue of her pale skin only slightly concerned him. Immortals often paled when they needed to feed.

What he couldn’t comprehend was the change to her hair. The jet-black strands had lightened to chestnut hues, reminding him more of his dreams than the female he’d found in a bar. Perhaps these shifts in hair color were residual adjustments from her transition. He didn’t believe two days of hunger would cause such changes.

“Delilah?”

She didn’t move, but her heart rate and blood pressure assured she was awake.

“That was our bishop. News of your arrival has spread.”

He decided not to bother her with warnings of his mother’s impending visit. It was hardly dusk, but he was ready for the day to end.

“I’ll take you upstairs.” As always, she stiffened the moment he touched her, but she didn’t object when he lifted her to his chest.

He carried her upstairs and lay her on his bed. Memories of how he anticipated this first week taunted him. She absolutely detested him. And, to be honest, he wasn’t sure he deserved anything less than her animosity.

“Sleep now, little one.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reclined next to her on the bed.

The ache of her hunger gnawed at his insides. At this point, ingesting any sustenance would cause her pain. He could sense her overwhelming fatigue, and his heart ached.

Every instinct demanded he tend to her needs and take away her discomfort, but her physical symptoms were only an indicator of the emotional damage he’d done.

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