Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Crymson
I don’t know how long I sleep, but I’m not dead yet, so I can only assume it hasn’t been the full day.
The dream I’d had lingers in my mind, but the harder I try to focus on it, the more it fades, until I’m left wondering what I’d dreamt about at all.
The moment I open my eyes to the soft glow of a candle flickering on the bedside table, I realize I’m not alone.
Seven and Rorrick linger near the ends of the bed, their faces twin mirrors of worry. My eyes trail down to the baskets they hold in their hands before I sit up with a wince.
“Is that all. . . for me?” I ask, staring at the food. As if demanding an answer just the same, my stomach gives a very loud, embarrassing rumble. I press my hand to it. “Where did it come from?”
Seven glances at Rorrick, as if he doesn’t know the answer, or doesn’t really want to say it. Rorrick apparently has no such hesitations.
“The fae gave it to us at the border,” he offers. “Apparently, your kinship knew you’d need food.”
Shame flickers in his eyes, an emotion I never thought to see on the large brutal vampire's face.
He eases around the bed and sets the basket on top of the comforter beside me.
I stare at the pile of apples and oranges and fresh bread, my mouth watering like it's a buffet instead of the most healthy thing I could ever choose to feast on.
“Is it safe?” I ask.
“We believe so,” Seven answers, coming around the other side and setting his own basket on the bed at my other side.
The baskets themselves are woven from a strange, thorny vine, the points sharp enough I wonder how they carried them without being pricked. I don’t understand why the fae would send food, why this is all happening. Nothing makes sense in my life any more.
For once, I’m thankful.
I reach for one of the bread rolls on top of the first basket, holding it up to the light.
It’s purple, tiny black seeds within it.
It smells sweet, like Hawaiian bread. When I take a small, hesitant bite, I realize it’s just as sweet as it smells, as if there’s some kind of fruit mixed in with it.
I hum in pleasure and then do the most unlady-like thing ever.
I start inhaling the food. All of it.
I’m no stranger to hunger. Van would often piss away our money and sometimes the only way I’d be able to eat was stealing some peanuts from the bar I worked at.
A few days in a vampire court? Nothing compared to a few weeks surviving on peanuts and what I could find in the trash after the cooks left for the night.
Still, I’ve learned not to turn away food when it presents itself, and this food?
It tastes better than any I’ve ever had.
The fruit is all ripe with juice and flavor.
The breads are all equally amazing. The strange dried trail mix stuff is better than anything I’ve ever had.
It’s all so intoxicatingly delicious. Strangely so.
I’d give my left tit to keep eating like this.
“We’re sorry we didn’t feed you sooner,” Seven says, watching me consume everything I can with a concerned arch of his brow.
“I thought humans only ate once a week,” Rorrick says with a wince.
“You didn’t know,” I say around a mouthful of bread. I take another feral bite and add, “Besides, I’m going to die soon. It hardly matters.”
Rorrick’s shoulders tense as I say that sobering line out loud.
Slowly, I stop chewing and look down at my hands where I hold what looks like an orange.
My eyes water but I do everything possible to hold them back.
I shouldn’t cry now. There’s no reason to.
Even if I was so foolish for falling for the three men who brought me here to die.
The thought had crossed my mind, that if I can’t escape by the time the party comes around that I should go out on my own terms. It seems a better option than my fate if I stay here. I don’t know what I’m going to do, what I could do, but I know I don’t want this to be the end.
And if it is, I’d at least like to go out with some really good memories.
I glance up at Rorrick and Seven, taking in their tense shoulders. Rorrick’s eyes meet mine and there’s something in them that feels. . . not as final.
My eyes start to water more and I take a deep breath to hold it back, to keep from losing my shit here in front of these two men. I don’t want to look weak. I’m a strong woman. I’ve been through the worst of the worst. I’ve got this.
The sound that suddenly comes trickling from Seven’s mouth nearly does me in. Softly at first, the song he starts to sing echoes in the room around us, filling the air with what seems almost like the saddest lullaby known to man. He’s singing. For me.
The world flickers and I’m no longer sitting in bed again. We’re on the beach, our asses planted in the sand, the fae food spread around us. The wind rustles through the palm trees. The waves crash against the shore. Sun heats my skin. It’s beautiful.
And not real.
Not what I want to feel.
I’m hungry, but not for food anymore. I'm hungry for them.
And if I’m going to die, I plan to satiate that hunger.
I lift up on my knees and scoot through the sand to wrap my arms around Seven’s shoulders. His song cuts off abruptly, his eyes widening as they meet mine.
“Enough of this,” I command, and in an instant we rip out of his dream world, right back to the bedroom. I don’t know how my magic works, how it happens, but I don’t really care.
All I care about are the men in front of me.
My arms are still tangled around the sweetest man with the wide eyes peering at me through thick dark lashes. A smile tilts my lips as my stomach flips just thinking about him.
“Enough pretending,” I whisper against his mouth, before slamming my lips fully to his.