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Is he fucking licking him?

“What the fuck are you doing?” I yell, awkwardly stomping over on limbs that aren’t fully engaged yet.

I’m surprised by the lack of reaction from the demon, given that every time my temper has flared lately, there’s been a secondary wave of glee from this thing hitching a ride inside me.

Séverin jumps at the sound of my voice, dropping Bellamy’s arm. It flops uselessly to the side. I have every intention of ripping Séverin’s head off, but his frightened expression makes me pause long enough that I see blood all over his face, even in the dim light.

“Please, Sunny, it—it is not what it looks like,” he pleads as I shove him, pulling Bellamy’s unconscious body from his grasp.

I press my fingers to the pulse point on his throat, the thrumming weak, but there. Yellowing bruises splatter across his throat, which weren’t there this morning.

I turn to glare at Séverin, whose sniffles haven’t ceased. He looks distraught. “You have five seconds to start explaining,” I growl.

“H-he was on the floor when I got down here. He was bleeding and I—” he gasps, starting to sob again, rivulets of red tears flowing out of his eyes. I should be horrified by that. At the very least, surprised. “I-I am a vampire, okay?”

Well, stick me in a coffin and call me a corpse.

“I h-haven’t properly fed in weeks, and he was bleeding a-and I couldn’t s-stop m-myself.” He rubs angrily at his face, smearing red all over it. “I was only meant to—I just—” he wails, drawing his knees up to his chest and slamming his forehead down to them, shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

As much as I want to be furious with him, I feel a little guilty about scaring him. Fuck, I really don’t like the fact he’s got a crush on Bellamy but I shouldn’t yell in his face. From what little I know about him, his home life isn’t all that great, and he’s clearly struggling with whatever he’s got going on. Hard relate.

“Tell him I’m okay.” The soft croak of Bellamy’s voice drags my gaze down to him, his eyes half-lidded and drowsy. “You’re okay too.” He smiles, my stomach flipping at the sight.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” I soothe, helping him to sit up properly even though I don’t feel great myself. “What—did Séverin do that to your neck?” I turn to look at the huddled vampire, now peeking at us over the top of his arms, only his bloody eyes visible.

He looks haunted, but somehow, I know he wouldn’t do that. If he wanted to hurt Bellamy, he would have just torn his throat out with his teeth—not that he has any reason to.

Bellamy’s face crumples at the question, shaking his head slowly.

Which leaves only one person.

“No…” I scramble to my feet again, plastering myself against the wall as far away as I can get while still keeping them in sight.

“I…I did that to you? I fucking did that to you?”

I can’t breathe.

I look down at my tattooed hands, sickened by the sight of them, picturing the way they’d look wrapping around his slender throat.

Just like in my nightmares.

In every single one, I am the monster incarnate. I am the one who drove the car that killed his parents. The one who tells him his body isn’t enough for me. The one who hurts him.

I wonder when I stopped being a person and became this monster.

“It’s not your fault, Sunday,” Bellamy whispers, climbing to his feet.

“But it is. How are you not terrified of me?” I choke on the words, on the truth of them. He’s better off without me. I should never have pursued him. Look at where it’s gotten him.

“No,” he tells me firmly. “No, that’s not true. You’re a victim of this.”

I don’t want to believe it. I stare at my hands, tingles building within them, tiny pricks spreading like wildfire.

This is my divine punishment.

My chest tightens, locking my breath up so tight I can’t force it out of my lungs.

This is a reckoning. I deserve this.