30. Chapter Thirty #3
I lean back in the chair. The laptop screen glows faintly on my skin.
That’s when I feel it bubble underneath my skin: hunger.
I’m starving, again. Ever since my encounter with Benny, there’s been an unshakable hunger that consumes me when I’m away from her.
It tears me from the inside out. It hits so violently I gasp and hold my hand to my chest, clawing at my shirt.
Hunger is never something I take lightly.
It rolls through me sharp and sudden, like a blade.
Just not usually with this intense ferocity.
My jaw aches. My tongue burns. The taste of blood ghosts across my memory.
I curl my hands into fists and try to breathe.
No. Not her. Don’t think of her heartbeat.
Don’t imagine her skin, her warmth, her blood.
But that’s all I can imagine. No matter how hard I try to push the thoughts down, they lunge back forward with a force.
The hunger surges again, worse. My fangs pulse behind my lips.
I push back from the desk so fast the chair groans, my knees nearly buckling.
Something is wrong. If she is really my mate, should this not be easier?
Should she not steady me? Is it because I’m staying away?
This is why I need to stay away from her.
This isn’t safe. I’m going to end up killing her.
I’ll rip the only life force to ever shift my feelings away from my fucking self.
It’ll be my fault. Some texts say a mate dulls the hunger entirely.
Others say it sharpens until only their blood satisfies it.
Which is the truth?
My body answers with another violent wave. I stumble toward the balcony door and slide it open, letting the night air hit me in the face. It’s not enough. Humans pass below, their scents drifting upward. Waiting.
I grit my teeth until pain shoots up my jaw. This isn’t quiet. The only quiet I can get is when I’m near her. And even that isn’t true quiet when all I can think about is fucking her from one side of her house to the other.
I lurch away from the window and down the hall, nearly falling as I wrench the refrigerator open.
The bags inside are lined neatly, red shadows behind plastic.
I rip one open with my teeth. It’s gone in seconds.
It’s not enough. I tear open another. Still not enough.
By the third, panic claws at me. By the fourth, my vision swims.
Never. Never in all my years have I needed this much. Never have I felt so starved and so unsatisfied. The truth lands hard. These bags are nothing. Fuel adding to a fire that will stop at nothing till it has her, only her.
I stand, hunched over the counter, surrounded by empty bags. My hands shake. Yet the hunger still writhes inside me. Her name flickers through my mind like a prayer. Elowen. Her pulse. Her heat. Her closeness as she sat behind me. Her submissive thoughts as her hands trail her inner thighs.
I grip the counter until the wood cracks. I could go to her house. I know exactly where it is now. I could be at her window before she even—
No. Stop. I may be in love, but I am not psychotic. I force myself away from the counter, stumbling toward the stairs and down into the store. The darkness is thick and quiet. I step out the back door into the night, hoping the air might steady me.
My gaze catches on the alley to the speakeasy.
The cool dark beneath the Earth where bottles line the shelves.
Liquor has never satisfied me, but when the hunger claws this deep it tends to help dull the edge enough to keep me human.
Or whatever will pass for it. I grab the first bottle my hand finds, pull the cork out with my teeth, and drink.
The burn hits instantly, harsh and painful.
I drink again until the hunger dulls just enough for my thoughts to steady.
Never enough. But enough to keep me from running to her. Enough to keep me from sinking my fangs into the one person I want to protect more than anything.
I set the empty bottle down and the cellar swallows the sound.
I feel eyes on me again as I sit alone in the speakeasy.
It’s well after closing, so there’s no reason for anyone to still be here.
I climb the stairs slowly and the air is colder than it was a moment ago.
At first I thought the street was empty. Then I feel it. Someone is here.
“Who’s there?” I shout.
It stops me dead in my tracks, causing my muscles to recoil. The liquor does nothing to dull the instinct. Then, simultaneously, a figure separates from the dark lingering across the alley. Kalevala. Her smile curves as she steps into the thin wash of lamplight, movements slow and feline.
“You look pale,” she purrs. “Though I suppose that has always been true, hasn’t it?” My jaw tightens. “Still,” she says softly, “even starved, you are beautiful.”
I grit my teeth. “The fuck are you doing here? Kai is gone for the night. Don’t make this an issue.”
“An issue? I was hoping to stop in for a quick drink.” She tilts her head. “Your little human in the speakeasy is entertaining in his own way. Fragile, though. So boring. You, on the other hand…” Her gaze darkens. “You are worth the effort of returning.”
The rage inside me flares painfully. I force myself to stay still. “I told you before,” I manage, my voice lower than intended, “I am not interested. Pervert, much?”
“Not interested?” She laughs softly. “No, Beau. You are hungry. I can feel it from here.” She lifts a hand, fingers trailing through the air. “Why deny yourself? I came back for you. No games. No pretense. I am exactly what you need.”
Her thick perfume drifts closer, gagging me. “Leave,” I snap. “Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. I don’t need a fucking stalker. If it’s you that’s been watching me, if you know what’s good for you, you should stay the fuck away from me.”
Silence stretches. Then she smiles again.
“Ugh. What Kai said about Yvelia was right. You are so very stubborn. I’ll give you time to change your mind, pretty boy...
” She slips back into the dark, vanishing without sound, leaving me shaking against the door.
The night warms again without her, but the hunger still claws inside me.
Was she in the store the day Kai told Elowen about Yvelia?
I drag my phone from my pocket with trembling hands. A single message. The only step forward I can manage without falling apart. She had actually fallen asleep now, but…
To: Elowen Briar (Damsel in Distress):
I hope you made it home safely. Let me treat you to lunch today while you’re working. Just tell me the time. No more wondering. I promise.
I’ll fix this, mi tesoro. You won’t have to worry about only having Imani anymore.