Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Andrew
The episodes of feral bloodlust are becoming fewer and shorter, with the lucid moments stretching longer. I should feel pleased with this progress, the monster is being tamed. But when I'm in my right mind, the guilt is a constant companion.
Wyatt is so patient with me, I don't deserve him, or his family.
He deserves a mate who isn't a burden. But even more than that, I'm plagued by Arthur's death.
Where I became a monster, he ended up food.
Why didn't they kill me along with him? I think it would be preferable to this hell.
But if I were dead, Wyatt would be robbed of a mate. God, my head is a mess.
"Are you ready?" Tavian asks, giving me something else to focus on besides the cacophony of heavy thoughts.
"As I'll ever be." Sometimes vampires gain extra abilities based on their sire line.
Tavian can be in sunlight for up to five hours without getting crispy.
Today, we're about to test my resistance to the great ball of fire in the sky.
Since we don't know exactly who my sire was, there's no telling what I've inherited.
Maybe I'll burn and this will all end. But even as I think it, I know neither Wyatt nor Tavian will let that happen.
This is the first time I'll be free of my restraints since arriving here. Ransom and Trace, Wyatt's brothers, are here as backup in case I have a feral episode. I doubt they'd let me burn either.
Tavian opens the front door to the cabin and steps out onto the porch. I blink my eyes several times while they get used to the blinding light. Hesitantly, I step out, the porch roof keeping me out of the direct rays of the sun.
When Tavian walks over to the railing, he sticks his hand out, sunlight falling on his fingertips. "We'll start with this and see what happens."
I join him, slowly inching my fingers out to match his. The moment light hits my skin, it blisters. Yanking my hand back, I cradle it to my chest.
"Okay. I'm guessing you either didn't inherit that power, or you have a different sire than I do," Tavian says. "Now, we wait and see if anything presents itself as time goes on. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"
I raise an eyebrow. "You mean besides an overwhelming bloodlust, acquiring fangs, and having my entire existence upended?"
"Touché."
Wyatt comes up beside me, resting a hand gently on my lower back. "Do you need blood to help with your hand?"
I stretch it out in front of me to examine my fingers. They're already healing. "I think I'll be fine without it. But, thank you."
For the first time, I feel the connection of the mate bond stronger than the craving for blood. It still simmers in the background, but the contentment of Wyatt's wolf is what I feel most.
Ransom approaches slowly, likely so he doesn't trigger my instinctual defenses.
"Go for a hunt, brother," he says to Wyatt.
I take a good look at my mate. He's in great shape, but giving me so much blood has taken a toll. He hasn't been taking care of himself as well as he should.
"I'll be fine," I assure him when I sense his hesitation.
"We can handle things here for a while," Tavian affirms.
I'm not interested in being put back in restraints, so I'll pay extra attention to how I'm feeling. Being out of the cabin is refreshing, even if I have to stay under the shade of the porch.
I can feel Wyatt's skepticism, but he gives in.
He's been shirtless in front of me many times, but now he disrobes completely to shift.
A different sort of hunger rises, and Wyatt looks up with a ghost of a smile before he gives himself over to his wolf.
The wolf nuzzles my hand before bounding off into the woods.
An awkward silence settles between me and Wyatt's family. This is the first time I've been alone with them, at least to my recollection. My early days here are still hazy.
Trace and Ransom take a seat on the long bench to one side of the porch while Tavian takes one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the rail.
I take the remaining chair and sit backward on it so I can use the back for an armrest. So far, the blood hunger is under control.
For the moment, I feel somewhat normal again.
Except… I never will be. I've got a paranormal life now.
I think about all the plans Arthur and I had. Plans he'll never be able to execute. Because he's dead.
Does Richard know?
"What happened to the bodies of the people the cult drained for food?" I ask.
"They were cremated," Tavian replies.
Somehow I don't think he means they were processed through a mortuary.
Richard must know Arthur is missing by now. He's probably frantic with worry.
"My apartment. What happened to it?" The least I can do is send Arthur's things to his father.
"The rent is being paid. You need to decide what you want to do with it now that you're becoming more lucid."
"When do you think I'll be able to go pack it up?" I won't be able to live there now. Not after everything. Too many memories would haunt me. Not to mention, my mate is here.
"We can box up everything and bring it to you," Trace says. "Best not to rush being around humans this early in the process."
The now-familiar ache starts in my gums. Hunger pushes forward.
Tavian must recognize what's happening because he stands and moves closer to me. "Trace, Andrew needs blood. Ransom, be my backup."
On alert, Ransom steps closer as Trace offers me his wrist. Trace doesn't strike me as the type to love pain the way Wyatt does, so I force myself to be gentle, even though my instinct is to devour. Look at me becoming a civilized vampire.
As long as we catch it early, it seems I am becoming better able to control myself. Is Wyatt purposefully pushing my hunger to the limit so I'll inflict pain?
Surely not.
But now I've had the thought, and I can't unthink it.