Chapter 46 #3
Sterling follows us, pulling off his now ripped T-shirt and using it to clean his jaw. He tosses it to the floor, rolling his shoulders as he turns away. “I need some air,” he mutters before storming out the front door, scooping up the rifle at the last minute.
“Zeke,” I say hesitantly when I’m sure Sterling has gone. He still doesn’t answer, just stares straight ahead. “Ezekiel,” I say again, lifting my hand to cup the side of his face.
“I’m—sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His voice is hollow, his eyes vacant, even as he speaks.
“No need to apologize. Sterling shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”
He shakes his head. “I just—I feel so empty. The animal blood, it’s not the most fulfilling. I forgot how terrible it made us feel before. I suppose I just need to get used to it again.”
I notice it now. The same sunkenness in his face that I’d seen in Sterling.
His blood hasn’t tasted as sour, but it’s been days since I’ve had regular blood—perhaps I just hadn’t noticed.
Now that he’s admitting it, I can see the way the lack of regular blood is affecting him, too.
I’m taking too much from them. From each of them.
I let my hand wander up his jawline, stroking idly through his short black hair.
His eyes drift closed, bringing him slowly back to the moment.
I take his hand in my free one as I continue letting my fingers trail through his hair, lightly squeezing his palm to ground him.
He returns the motion, using it to expel some of the built-up anger in his system.
An idea strikes me and I let go of his hair to bring my wrist to my mouth. I need to find a way to pay them back, to help sustain us amidst this nightmare. I hiss slightly as my fangs break my skin. The sound catches his attention, his eyes snapping open.
“Evangeline.” His voice is low, hungry. Full of warning.
“Let me do this for you, Zeke. Don’t make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be.
” Aamon took the bloodbonds so seriously.
I have no doubt Zeke does too, or else they would have already suggested this.
But I don’t care. “You need blood, I have it. Don’t think any harder about it than that.
” I stretch my arm out before him, watching as his nostrils flare.
His eyes flutter closed and I track his tongue as it darts out to lick his lips.
“I can’t drink from you,” he says, shaking his head in such a minute movement I barely catch it.
“Am I that revolting to you? That you would reject me even when you’re starving to feed?” My voice is barely a whisper, full of despair and heartache. I move to lower my wrist, but he snags my arm, holding me just below his mouth.
“You are so many things, Angel. But revolting is not one of them. You’re too fresh. And with the lack of truly nutrient rich blood, yours wouldn’t be enough to help me.”
But I can see the craving in his eyes, crystal clear for quite possibly the first time ever.
As if being out here, being starved, run ragged, and at odds with Sterling has worn away his ability to put up a facade.
And it's sending desire through my body.
Even if we can't survive this, we can be in this together
I let loose a shuddering breath. “Then how about as a promise?"
He doesn’t answer. I lick my lips, lowering my head as I nearly give up trying. “It doesn’t have to be anything more,” I offer one last argument, repeating his own words back to him. “Only in blood.”
Those words seem to strike something within him.
He grabs my arm, pulling me to his mouth and sucking my blood down greedily.
I gasp at the sensation. Desire melts my core, so strong I think I may pass out.
My eyes roll back in my head. It’s nearly orgasmic, the feel of him drinking me down.
I briefly wonder if this is what the others have felt every time I’ve drank from them.
If this is what Zeke feels when he’s fed me over the past two days.
But before my mind can linger on that, he’s pulling away from my arm. I open my mouth to argue that he can’t possibly have drank enough to help, but before I can even get a word out, his lips are crashing against mine.
He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap and deepening the kiss. I’m shell-shocked, completely outside of myself as he claims my mouth. His tongue darts out, parting my lips and taking me deeper. Letting the taste of my own blood wash over me.
I allow myself to receive him, pushing down the shock till I’m able to experience the moment for what it is.
I kiss him back, relishing the feel of his lips on mine, his hands in my hair and on my hips.
His hard length against me as I straddle his lap.
Gods, I’ve wanted this for so long, and it’s every bit as perfect as I expected it to be.
But then I blink and he’s gone. I fall forward on the sofa, catching myself at the last minute so I don’t completely lose my balance and fall over the edge. He’s across the room, breath heavy as he backs against the wall, running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry, I—”
He doesn’t say anything else before storming out and disappearing into the night.