Page 57 of Blood Day: Part One

She was a rarity. A treasure. A beacon of sunshine in a world of darkness. And I wanted her. So I would have her.

Did that make me a monster? To her, probably. But maybe she would understand my reasons in the end.

I’d try to help her.

I’d worship her, too.

If she desired more pleasure, I’d give it to her with my tongue and body for as long as she required. I’d feed her. Bathe her. Give her the resources she needed to thrive.

For as long as this world allowed.

Maybe I would request that the university let me retain her for private lessons. It’d be a good way to keep her safe for her remaining months. Then I could fail her in the end, and her resulting death would be quick.

Perhaps they would even give me the honor of drinking her dry.

It’d be the kindest gift I could offer her in this world, even if she hated me for it. But I’d embrace that hatred over her pain.

That was the lesson I’d learned last night—that I could not stand to see her hurting.

It was why I’d reacted in a rash manner and brought her back here to heal her. I hadn’t been able to handle her agony. I’d been irrationally inclined to save her myself.

Because she was mine.

I wanted her to leave this world on my terms, not those set by our society. Because the very thought of her torment killed me inside. She didn’t deserve any of it. None of the humans really did.

But something about Lily made me even more displeased with the situation. I wanted to steal her away and hide with her for eternity.

A completely ridiculous fantasy, but one I idly entertained even as I ascended the stairs toward my quarters. I’d grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, just in case the servant didn’t bring any with the meal. It would take her maybe thirty minutes to prepare as well, and Lily likely needed a refreshment now.

My suspicions were confirmed as I entered my room to find her leaning against the headboard of my bed, still wrapped up in her towel. She appeared dazed, her skin pale, her eyes a light green rather than that blue-green shade.

I’d definitely taken too much blood from her. And she was suffering despite the healthy dose of my own essence last night. Perhaps because she’d used most of my supernatural energy to heal her other injuries.

I set the bottles down on the nightstand and joined her in the bed. She glanced at my bare abdomen and gray pajama bottoms and then up at my face.

I caught her cheek with my palm, then leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. She shivered in response, her skin clammy beneath my hand.

Maybe I should rethink that apology, I thought.

She was too fragile for the amount of blood I’d taken from her, something I blamed society for more than myself. Had she been on a proper food regimen, she’d be fine right now. Alas, my little flower had been marked as a petite delicacy, one likely destined to be destroyed in a royal harem.

A lycan would break her immediately.

As would most vampires.

I would do my best not to follow suit, something I told her without words as I sliced my tongue along one of my canines and slipped it into her mouth.

She jolted in surprise, her eyes widening as I deepened our kiss by feeding her my blood.

My palm slid to her neck, my thumb drawing a line down her throat as a silent demand for her to swallow.

She obeyed.

I fed her more, giving her the essence that would help her heal and make her light-headed with immortality.

So forbidden.

So taboo.