Page 1 of Bite The Terror That Feeds

1

LARISA

The bed was cold.

The room was quiet.

The balcony was closed and locked, so I couldn’t sit outside when the sun occasionally popped out through the clouds. A week ago, I was in the most passionate relationship of my life, a relationship that brought me into battle. A beautiful man was beside me throughout the night, inside me first thing in the morning.

Now it all felt like a dream, like I’d never left this room in the first place.

A week had passed, and I hadn’t spoken a word to anyone. Fang didn’t come to visit. My food was slid under the door three times a day. I was back to exactly where I started, heartbroken after another betrayal.

I left the bed and knocked loudly on the door, so lonely I felt my mind decay. “I want to see Fang.” I knew there were guards on the other side, positioned to watch me day and night, to make sure I rotted all alone.

There was no response, but moments later, the part of the door used to issue food was lifted, and a snake slithered into my bedchambers. It took a full minute for his entire body to pass through because he was so long.

We sat together in the seating area, the coffee table between us.

I wanted his company, but now that we were together, I didn’t know what to say.

He looked at the cards on the table.Been practicing?

Not that it will make a difference…I released a quiet chuckle.

He used his tail to gather the cards and shuffle them before he distributed them between us. He brought his cards close and looked at his hand.

I grabbed my cards even though my heart wasn’t in it.

We played in silence, and as always, the snake kicked my ass.

Are you okay?

I shrugged. “Why haven’t you come to visit me?”

I assumed you didn’t want to see me.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Well…I knew.

“The whole time?”

A few days before.

“I’m not mad at you, Fang. You’re the only friend I’ve ever really had.”

His eyes dropped in sadness.He’s unwell. All he does is drink all day.

“Didn’t he do that before?”

He used to be with you all day.

I felt no pity for him.

He’s sad. He’s weak.

Because he hadn’t fed in a week. “That’s not my problem.”