Page 44 of Of Shadows and Blood

A muscle in his jaw tics. “You are unwell.” He motions dismissively. “Your mind is elsewhere. But you could have been hurt. Oh, but wait, you were.”

Oh, he cares about me?

“Being hurt sounded better than being challenging,” I respond. He walks a few feet forward, looking like pure power and force. This look mirrors the one he gave me in the Chalice Room, only this time I can damn near smell his menacing anger.

“Did Sawyer plan to flee with you?” he demands. His fists clench at the sound of his own brother’s name. I don’t answer immediately and he asks again.

“My desire to leave is mine and mine alone.”

They do not know his role. Sawyer agreed to come with me and spearheaded most of it. He’s protecting himself but he’s my only way out right now.

Cedric tilts his head. “I’ll ask again. Did my brother go with you? Plan with you?” He taps his fingers on the bedframe.

“No,” I lie. I can’t cause trouble with Sawyer. I need an easy way out. This plan failed and he jumped ship.

Cedric releases a breath and looks to the fire, as if trying to calm his emotions. The singular shadow slowly retreats, its translucent form disappearing entirely. His complete aura shifts as the minutes tick by. The clock in the front room chimes the hour.

“I apologize,” he offers, face still firm. Cedric steps in closer and I can now see his face better as the flames dance on his face. His hair is a mess and his boots are muddy, worn.

He went out there. To find me.

It’s true, I’m a prisoner and he is the warden.

A hunter and prey.

“And you’re feeding?” he asks.

“Not for a while, no.”

“What?” Cedric steps closer again.

I speak again. “No, I have not had blood since I left the cottage last night.”

“Are you insane?” he questions, looking around the space as if I would have bottles of it nearby. They’re still in that magicked trunk.

“Are you? I just barely discovered I’m not fully human,” I snap. My stomach twists at the thought of blood running into my mouth, coating thick in my throat as it works its way down. In pain or in pleasure, I do not know. I choose not to read into it.

A primal part of me wants it, but I tamper it down. I must. Cess can survive on human food and so will I.

“You are vampyr,” he starts.

“And cess!” I claim.

“But you need blood to survive. In perfect health, you would be fine with bread and meat. But you are walking a dangerous line right now. Your body needs it more often than normal. The way you feel? The varying levels of energy, the soreness and stiff joints. It will only get worse,” he says, motioning to me. His words may come from a place of care but his tone is harsh. He comes close to the bed, presumably to get a better look at me.

“Your flesh is mottled and slick with sweat,” he breathes. “You’re coming with me.” He comes around to where I lay but I scoot back away from him as best as I can.

“Don’t touch me,” I bite.

“You need a healer.”

“No, I need you to get away from me,” I say, massaging my neck. My throat is dry and thick and breathing is still challenging me.

“I will drag you against your will,” he roars. Why he’s this outrageously upset, I do not know. If I die, I’m no longer challenging.

Cedric reaches forward to scoop me into his arms. I jump back as he reaches for me. “Are you genuinely that afraid of me?” His throat works. “So afraid that you would risk death to avoid my touch?”

“Yes,” I bite out. “I told you not to touch me. You frighten me. Look at yourself!” I grit my teeth, trying to hold back the rage within me. He looks wounded, stepping back slightly at my admission, but I continue.