“Did I hurt anyone?”
Fenric snorts from the ground. “You punched me.”
I look at him.
“Hard,” he adds around a mouthful of berries.
“Fenric,” Nyx scolds.
“What? He asked.”
Normally, I’d have an answer for that. A clever remark to make Nyx laugh and Thorian look irritated, but nothing comes to mind.
“I’m sorry.”
Fenric’s expression changes.
I look at Thorian next. “I’m sorry.”
Then Nyx.
The words nearly stick in my throat.
“Nyx, I’m so fucking sorry.”
She leans toward me, but I look away. I can’t bear to see fear in her face again.
“Talon.”
“I thought I could control it.” Anger burns through the shame now, all of it aimed squarely at myself. “I knew what that place was doing to me, and I still thought I could handle it. I should have said something sooner.”
“We could see you were struggling,” Nyx says. “We should have done more than ask if you were all right.”
“You asked. I told you I was fine.”
“That doesn’t mean we should have left you to deal with it alone.”
I look down at my hands. “It wasn’t normal blood. I knew that as soon as we reached the field. The smell was wrong. It made me hungry, but it was more than hunger. Every breath made it harder to think about anything else.”
“The gods did something to it,” she says.
“They must have. I’ve heard stories about blood that could drive a vampire mad, but I thought they were just stories. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” My throat tightens. “Then your arm started bleeding, and I could smell you through all of it. I knew I needed to get away from you, but by then I could barely make myself do anything.”
“Talon.”
“I should have told you.”
“Yes,” she says softly. “And we should have helped you sooner.”
I want to argue, to take every bit of the blame before she can claim any of it. But she’s looking at me as though she won’t let me shut her out of this, either.
Scrubbing both hands over my face, I stare toward the strange field beyond us. “How far did I follow you?”
Silence.
I look back at her.
Nyx hesitates.