✧ 71 | Feeding Habit ✧
In the middle of the night, Billy sat watching the sleeping boy on his bed, guilt eating away at him. He had left this precious soul all alone with Beast. He could only imagine what twisted games Beast had played with him this time.
Judging by the clothes he had found on Ilya, Billy had a sickening feeling about what Beast had intended to do. It made him nauseous just thinking about it.
At least he'd awakened before the Beast could hurt him.
Billy smiled as he scanned the beautiful boy sleeping so deeply. It tugged at his heart that Ilya felt safe enough to fall asleep beside him.
Loose strands of jet-black hair had fallen across his restless eyes. Thick, long lashes dropped on his blushed cheeks. Dark circles formed under his eyes. A perfect porcelain complexion ruined by battle scars and bruises.
Now Billy's heart ached. How could he let this happen to the sweet boy? He needed to protect him no matter what. He needed to keep the Beast inside him under control.
But how?
After a day of torturous games with Beast, the kid finally rested. However, his heart was beating too fast, as if he was being chased in a dream. Even in sleep, panic followed him.
Billy felt the boy's distress. He felt those frantic heartbeats. He heard the painful whimpers. He saw those sad lips. He even noticed the sparkle of little drops of tears at the corners of his eyes.
That was not the face of someone at peace. It was the expression of a kid on the verge of crying. With his arms crossed to protect himself and legs bent in a fetal position, Ilya looked like a child trapped in a nightmare.
Except this cursed town had turned his life into a nightmare, one he couldn't wake up from.
Billy got up to throw the maid's uniform in the garbage pile. Disgust was written all over his face. He wanted to burn the thing, if not for the suffocation hazard in the enclosed space.
He returned to the boy, watching him with kind eyes. He knelt beside him and took a closer look. The outfit he had given him before he went to sleep looked exactly like the one Ned had worn when they lay beneath the tree years ago—a beige knit sweater with a pair of jeans, warm and cozy.
Billy's smile faded.
Only then did he notice that the boy was shaking. His teeth chattered. His arms and legs shivered. Despite the warm clothes, they offered little protection against the ruthless winter of Pennsylvania.
Billy instantly removed his Viking fur coat and gently draped it over the boy. He didn't care if he got cold. All that mattered was keeping the boy safe. He owed it to himself... and to Maggie's final wish.
Ilya jolted awake with a gasp. The sudden weight of the heavy fur startled him, triggering his fight-or-flight instinct. Everything in this damned hospital reminded him of Beast. Before he could think, he screamed and kicked the thick brown fur away, mistaking it for the Beast's own werewolf pelt.
"No, hey," Billy said, quickly raising his hands. "No, no. It's OK. It's just me."
In the darkness, Ilya couldn't make out the color of Billy's eyes, but he recognized his gentle voice immediately. As his breathing slowed, he noticed Billy's signature coat was gone, leaving his bare torso exposed to the cold. Then his gaze fell to the fur coat lying at his feet.
Ilya finally let out the breath he'd been holding.
"I just wanted to cover you. You were shaking."
Ilya's eyes were heavy with exhaustion, too tired to stay open. He relaxed at the sound of Billy's voice. There were no traces of danger or malice in it—only warmth and peace.
Without a word, Ilya lay back on the mattress, pulled the fur coat over himself, and drifted back to sleep.
Billy watched the boy slip into a deep slumber and smiled. It was the cutest thing he had seen in a long time.
Then he remembered the promise he had made to Maggie before her death: to protect this boy, to do whatever it took to keep him safe.
There was something special about the boy with purple blood. Not just his resemblance to Ned. No... it was something deeper. As though fate had chosen this fragile human for something far greater than either of them could yet understand.
After hours of watching over the sleeping boy, Billy finally succumbed to sleep. He didn't know whether he had fallen asleep on the floor or beside Ilya on the mattress. What woke him was the faint jingle of metal.
His ear twitched.
Keys.
Billy's eyes flew open.
At the door, Ilya was fumbling with the lock.
"No!" Billy shouted, making the boy jump.
Ilya spun around, his eyes wide with panic.
"I'm sorry," he quavered, holding up the keys with trembling hands.
Billy crossed the room in an instant and snatched them away.
"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped. "Do you have any idea what's waiting for you on the other side of that door? Zombies are the least of your worries."
Ilya looked so small beneath Billy's towering figure. But he didn't feel the same fear around him as he did around Beast. The only thing he feared was Billy becoming Beast again.
That fear faded the moment he saw the worried frown on Billy's face.
"I want to keep you safe," Billy said. "But I can't do that if you're acting so recklessly. I need you to be careful, alright?"
The corners of Ilya's lips lifted into a faint smile. It lasted only a moment, but Billy caught it, confused.
Ilya took Billy's hand.
"Come here for a second," he said. "I need you to take care of yourself too."
The unexpected touch caught Billy off guard, warming his cheeks, but he followed without protest.
Ilya led him to the deer's body lying in the middle of the room. Why would he show him the dead animal? What business did he have with it?
"There's something I have to tell you," Ilya said before letting out a sigh.
Billy waited, a knot forming in his stomach.
This can't be good.
"Well," Ilya began, his eyes fixed on the mangled remains. "You said you want to keep me safe, right?"
"Yeah..." Billy nodded slowly.
"Then you have to eat this deer..."
He hesitated.
"...raw."
Raw.
Raw.
Raw.
The word kept ringing in Billy's head like a church bell. His stomach lurched, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Ilya raised a finger, stopping him before he could say a word.
"Listen carefully," Ilya said, his voice firm. "To keep Beast asleep, you need to feed him."
Billy was all ears, like a child hanging on every word from his teacher.
"But... why?" He asked. "I'm already eating enough food."
Ilya quirked an eyebrow.
"You call that food?"
Billy lowered his head in shame.
"Your diet is disgusting," he stated. "That even Beast threw it all up."
Billy grimaced.
"You're feeding yourself. Not Beast. You're not eating the right food." Ilya pointed toward the deer's body. "If you don't give him the food he craves, he'll wake up and take over your body again."
There was no need for further explanation. The plan was disgustingly clear. If Billy wanted Beast to stay asleep, he had to feed him the only thing he would accept:
Raw meat.