Chapter 12
Twelve
Nolan
I was still processing what Zamir had told me, but he kept going, as if now that he'd started to speak about his past, he couldn't bring himself to stop.
"I refused to feed after that, of course.
But I was a stupid kid, and it took me way too long to realize I wasn't getting hungry.
I was fifteen by the time I figured it out and confronted my father.
He told me that he'd been waiting until I was weak enough to put me to sleep and feed me by force.
He'd killed who knew how many people to feed me, to keep me alive.
Why was my life worth more than those humans'?
He told me that he'd already lost my mom, and he wasn't going to lose the last parts of her.
That was all I was to him, a reminder of my mother. What I wanted didn't matter to him."
Fuck. I couldn't imagine what he'd been through. From everything he'd said, it seemed his father had been one of those nomadic shtrigas who drifted from place to place, never resting, feeding when they needed to. They had no connections, nothing to keep them... human, for want of a better word.
"Since the recent feed had made me strong, I used his own trick on him.
Later that night, when he was sleeping, I made his sleep deeper, packed up a bag, and ran.
We'd always lived in the woods, only going to the towns when we needed to feed, so I knew how to survive there.
I discovered I could feed on animal life sources, and while they weren't as filling, I could survive on them.
I did that for, hmm, seven years, I think, before the headmaster found me. "
Everything made more sense now. His aversion to feeding, his refusal to feed from me.
His father had never tried to keep his victims alive, and to Zamir, it seemed like the only way to feed if he wanted to be full.
So, he'd chosen to starve himself, because he'd rather hurt himself than others.
How could he ever think he was a monster?
I knew my words, no matter how heartfelt, wouldn't be enough to change his mind.
Instead, I reached for the journal still in his lap, carefully flipping the pages until I found the one I was looking for.
I brushed my thumb over the picture, a breath of space between my skin and the paper so I wouldn't smudge the charcoal sketch.
"Her name was Lahey," I murmured, and Zamir's brows furrowed in confusion as he eyed the sketch.
"I found her when she was ten. She'd been separated from her family, and she was starving.
I took her in, let her feed from me, and took care of her until she reached adulthood.
Her family found her then and she left with them, but we always stayed in touch until she died a few years ago.
Well, a few years for me. About three decades, I think.
You remind me of her, actually. She was always so concerned about hurting people, hurting me. "
Zamir sucked in a breath as he realized why I was talking about her, and his eyes flashed to mine. "She was a shtriga?"
I nodded, then smiled at him, dropping his hand so I could cup his cheek instead.
"The way your father did it, it's not the way of most Shtriga.
They don't kill, and when they do, it's only to fulfill the wishes of the person they're feeding on.
Lahey's family, for example, exclusively fed on people at death's door, people who'd have lived in pain for the rest of their lives and wanted to end their suffering. "
Zamir's lips parted in shock, and he glanced from me to Lahey's sketch.
"Even when she was starving, she was full a while before she could hurt me. And it has been centuries since then. I've grown. My experiences have made my life force stronger, and I can guarantee that you won't cause me any harm."
Zamir swallowed hard, his eyes troubled as he read what I'd written about Lahey. He sucked in a breath, and his eyes shot to mine. "Maleyah? Her name was Maleyah?"
I blinked, surprised by his sudden intensity. "Uh, yes. Lahey was the name I used for her, because I'd misheard the first time she told me her name. Why?"
Zamir swallowed hard, his hand hovering over the sketch. "My mother's name was Maleyah."
I didn't need to look at the sketch to picture Lahey in my mind. Her long, wild hair, her pretty brown eyes, the sweet smile she always wore. She'd been beautiful, but her features weren't unique. With Zamir's magic as weak as it was, I'd never have been able to sense they were related.
"You knew my mom," Zamir said with a strained laugh. "Hell, you raised her."
I had no idea how to respond to that, so I stayed silent as he processed it. "She was nice, then? Not like my dad?"
"She was one of the best people I've ever known. I'm sure your father was a better man before he lost her. She wouldn't have been with him otherwise, mate bond or not."
Zamir nodded slowly, chewed on his bottom lip, then released a sigh.
"All right. I'll—I'll try. But if it feels like I'm losing control, or if it starts getting painful..."
"I'll push you away," I promised him, though I was certain I wouldn't have to.
Zamir nodded almost robotically, then leaned toward me, the journal still on his lap.
"Wait."
He froze, then jerked back like I'd burned him.
"I didn't change my mind. I just..." I waved toward the journal. "It's old and delicate. Do you mind if I put it away first?"
Zamir's shoulders dropped. "Of course not. Go ahead."
I replaced the journal in its spot below my bed, then joined Zamir on the couch once more.
He swallowed hard, and I offered him a comforting smile. "It's okay."
Zamir nodded, slid forward, and pressed his lips to mine.
Zamir
I hadn't imagined how decadent Nolan's life force was. It was rich from all his experiences, tasting of love and loss, joy and pain, freedom and constraint.
His life force was all I could feel, all I could taste, but I was distantly aware I'd climbed into his lap at some point, his palms hot against my ass as he held me to him, as he deepened the kiss and sent more of his life force spilling into me.
Now that I was the one drinking it in, his life force wasn't wispy anymore. It was thicker, still smoke-like but denser than before. It was bright and spicy, like I imagined his dragon fire must be.
My gut—where I felt my hunger most fiercely—warmed and filled, and the appetite that had been my constant companion for the last thirteen years slowly dissipated. I didn't remember what life was like without that ever-present hunger, but I realized I was excited to find out.
I softened the kiss as I reached my limit, releasing Nolan's life force back into him as I drew back and met his green eyes. He smiled, soft and slow, and I exhaled a relieved laugh. He was okay.
We pulled apart, and Nolan grinned as he gave me a onceover. "There you are. Your aura is all lit up, and your magic is gaining strength by the minute." He placed his palm on my chest, over my heart, and his grin softened. "I can see it now, the similarities between your magic."
Right. He'd known my mom. The woman who'd died soon after she'd given birth to me.
My father had told me it wasn't my fault, that she'd been old, too old to be giving birth, but she'd wanted me badly enough to risk it.
I'd always doubted him, blamed myself, but if Nolan had known her almost a thousand years ago, it was possible.
While supes lived long lives, they rarely reached the thousand-year mark.
Only a few exceptions existed. The ancient supes like dragons, wyverns, unicorns. .. they lived much, much longer.
"How do you feel?" Nolan asked, and I breathed in deep. The absence of that twisting feeling in my gut felt strange, like I was dreaming. But this was real. I wasn't hungry, and I hadn't had to hurt anyone to get there.
"I feel... good. Relieved."
Nolan smiled, then leaned forward to kiss me again. "I'm glad," he murmured against my lips.
I was warm, and I didn't know if it was because of Nolan's life force, or his body beside mine. A yawn slipped out of my lips, and I hummed as I climbed off his lap and curled up against his side. "Can we sit like this for a little while?"
"Of course. Whatever you want."
I smiled as Pebble hopped up onto the couch and curled up over our legs, and I ran my fingers through her fur and closed my eyes, soaking in the peaceful moment.
My mind grew hazy as I sat there, Nolan's arm wrapped around me as my head rested on his chest, and I breathed in his warm, woodsy scent. It reminded me of a fireplace, and I stuffed my nose into the open slit between two buttons of his shirt.
A soft laugh rumbled through his chest, but he didn't stop me from sniffing at him. I smiled, and dragged in another lungful of his spicy dragon scent. My senses felt... sharper. Like I'd been living inside a bubble that muted everything, and Nolan had popped the damned thing.
A healthy human adult's life force lasted about eight months for an adult Shtriga.
A human child's lasted for about fifteen months.
I had no idea how long Nolan's life force would last me, but I expected it would take at least twenty months before I needed to feed again.
From what I knew of Nolan so far, though, he'd insist I feed way before that.
How had we gotten here? I'd come over today for a lowkey date with my mate. I'd thought we'd eat some food, cuddle with the furbabies, and maybe make out a little. Instead, I was in a food coma the likes of which I'd never experienced before.
I sighed as a comforting warmth enveloped me, and I succumbed to a gentle sleep.
******
I didn't wake up all at once. Instead, muted sounds reached my ears first. The soft brush of paper against paper, the lap of a wet tongue against fur...
Scents came next. The warm spicy scent of Nolan still cloaked me, but beyond it, I could smell food. Tomato and cheese and spices.
Nolan was warm under me, and in my sleep, I'd climbed halfway on top of him, though he didn't seem to mind.
"Hey," he murmured as he rubbed my back, and I blushed. He'd noticed I was awake, huh?
I blinked my eyes open, and drew back, sitting up straight so I could look at him. "Hey. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"It's okay. You seemed like you could use it."
I shrugged, though I had to admit I felt more settled now.
The unfamiliar fullness I'd felt after feeding on him was gone, though the heat of his life force lingered.
It'd replaced the sharp hunger that usually clawed at my insides, and it made me feel.
.. centered. Strong. Was there ever a time when I'd felt this good?
"Are you hungry? For human food, I mean," he added with a chuckle when I shot him a look.
"Yeah, I think so. It smells delicious, whatever it is."
"I ordered pizza," he said, nodding toward the kitchen, and I raised a brow at him. Had he gotten up to receive the pizza without waking me?
"I'm surprised I didn't wake up when you got up to get it."
"That's because I didn't," he said with a grin, making his piercing glitter as the light hit it just right.
"Huh?"
"The door wasn't locked, so I told the guy to come in and drop it off in the kitchen. I tipped him extra, of course."
I blinked. Some stranger had seen me sprawled over Nolan, napping away like a kid?
"Uh... should I not have done that?" he asked as the smile flickered away, replaced with consternation.
"Nah, it's okay. It just caught me off guard."
Nolan nodded, though he still looked unsure. "Would you like to eat now?"
"Yeah, let me wash up first."
He told me to use the one in his bedroom, and I snuck glances at his room as I walked through.
His sheets were silk, a navy blue color with four pillows stacked against the headboard.
The wall across from the bed was covered by a large bookshelf stuffed full, with a small reading nook under the window on the far side.
A desk sat in the corner, with a lamp, some papers, and a few pens in a holder.
I imagined Nolan sitting there as he wrote the letter he'd sent me, and it made me smile.
Before he caught me cataloging his room, I ducked into the bathroom.
I'd meant to wash my face and get out of there, but a sliver of red peeking over my collar caught my eye, and I pulled my turtleneck off. I sucked in a breath, turning this way and that to take it in.
While the marks that I'd gotten from Keoni's life force hadn't disappeared yet, I could barely see them under the new marks.
Beautiful, vibrant streaks of red and orange covered my chest. They started at the base of my sternum and rose all the way to my collarbone, with a single streak curling around my neck possessively.
I'd never liked the marks I got from feeding on supes. It was because of their magic, I'd concluded, and every supe I fed from left their distinct marks on my skin. It'd been another proof of what I was: a parasite.
But Nolan's marks felt different. I didn't want to hide them. I didn't want them gone.
They didn't make me think I was a monster, a parasite. They made me feel like I belonged. Belonged to Nolan.
It was like shifters and the way they loved marking their mates with a bite. It was visible proof I belonged to Nolan.