Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“What?”
She bit her lower lip, her eyes battling with something.
“What, Lyric?” My heart raced against my chest, an anxious swell swarming my stomach.
“Through the bond,” she said, wringing her hands before her. “I don’t know if it works for you like it does for me…because you haven’t accepted it. But when Alek…” her breath caught. “When Alek became overwhelmed with thirst, I felt it. Was able to help with the pain.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat. There was something, almost intangible, pulsing at the center of my soul. Like a beacon calling out for help—a sensation like being covered in sand, each grain acidic and searing against my soul.
“What are you saying?” I asked…but looking inward? I already knew the answer. He’d told me he was fine. Assured me he was taking care of himself.
Lyric’s shoulders sank. “Lachlan hasn’t been feeding.”
I was going to murder him.
13
Lachlan
“There has to be something else we can try,” I snapped at Gabriel as I prowled the length of the infirmary, pinching the skin between my eyes in the hopes that this fucking headache would let up.
I’d heaved up the contents of an entire blood bag about thirty minutes ago, and my head had been pounding ever since. The canned shit had never agreed with me, but desperate times and desperate whatever.
Our doctor shook his head and leaned back against the exam table. “It’s not like we’ve figured out a method for direct transfusion. I’m sorry Lachlan, but we’re kind of out of options here.”
“How long do you think I have?”
His eyebrows shot up and he cleared his throat. “This isn’t terminal, or anything. You just need to feed. Soon.”
No shit, Sherlock.
“Right. That’s what I meant. How long until I lose my fucking mind?” The hunger consumed almost every conscious thought. I heard the heartbeats of every single person in every single room, and Valor’s was the biggest bass drum of them all.
My throat burned like the Sahara, my vision was more thermal than not, and I was pretty sure my stomach was actually going to start eating itself if we didn’t find a solution that wasn’t Valor.
Valor. Agony pulsed through my fangs in sharp, staccato stabs. I was doing everything I could think of to stay away from her, to keep her safe. It had been days since I’d so much as put a hand on her soft skin or tasted her lips.
“It’s different for every one of us.” Gabriel watched me with careful eyes. “How long has it been since you’ve kept anything down?”
“Six…seven days?” I guessed. “And just the smell of other humans nauseates me. I was managing a few mouthfuls up until last week, but nothing now.” How the hell could we be one of the most medically advanced species and still not have a cure for this?
“Hmm. And how long has it been since you’ve had a full feeding?”
“I don’t know. Weeks?” I paused my pacing, trying to think back, but my brain wasn’t cooperating, which was on par with the rest of my body. Only my fangs and my cock seemed to function normally, and that was only for Valor.
“Shit.” Gabriel winced. “Look, I know you don’t want to—”
“She’s not an option,” I growled as the floor shifted beneath me. It was a close call, but I managed to grab onto the exam table instead of crashing to the floor. My balance, my vision, my temper, it was all dangerously off. “I won’t force this on her. I won’t even ask it of her. You know what it will do to the bond.” Every time we touched, kissed, fucked, that connection between us strengthened. Soon, it wasn’t going to matter if we accepted the damned thing or not. It would be as permanent as a heartbeat.
“And you know what not feeding will do to you. What it could potentially do to her.” Gabriel sighed and muttered something about a stubborn jackass under his breath. “Eventually, you’ll give in to the craving.”
“How. Long?” I bit the words out. Giving in wasn’t an option.
“A day. Maybe two.”
“Fuck.”
“And that’s only if you’re lucky.”
My stomach plummeted to the floor.
* * *
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
I stirred, breathing in the tantalizing scent of bergamot and lime. Mine.
A finger skimmed down my neck, sending jolts of electricity through my veins.
A heartbeat, strong and steady, filled my ears.
Hunger—ravenous and demanding—consumed every logical thought. Drink. Drink. Drink. The thirst beat at me relentlessly, and when I pried my eyes open, there were only cool lines and—Yes.
A shape throwing off waves of red and orange heat hovered above me.
My fangs erupted in my mouth, and I flipped my prey to its back, a startled gasp echoing somewhere in the back of my mind as I pinned its legs with my own and captured two small fists attached to delicate wrists.