Page 8 of Crimson Devotion (The Sacred Seven #1)

EIGHT

Faith

I’m famished.

My stomach’s empty, the noises it makes causing my body to physically recoil.

My throat is dry, teeth clattering together.

I’m not cold, yet I cannot control the trembling of my body.

The starvation has crept its way into my bones, wrapping itself around them like a cage, and the only way out is to eat.

To feed on something.

Ophelia is in front of me, her face void of any emotion.

Yet, I see her clearer. It’s as if I’ve just gotten glasses I didn’t know I needed, and everything is brighter, sharper, crystal.

Her face is perfect, her eyes the perfect shade, and those lips — fucking hell, they’re just begging for attention.

“Faith,’’ Ophelia speaks, my eyes snapping back to her eyes. “I know you’re confused—’’

“I’m not confused,’’ I croak out, the tightness in my throat making it difficult to speak. “I’m starving.’’

She takes a small step back, and a deep breath.

Her eyebrows narrow a fraction, eyes dipping down to the spot on my neck she bit.

That small motion is enough for the anger to start building, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold it all back, because it’s getting next to impossible to control the rage that’s poisoning my veins.

“I know you are,’’ she says, voice dropping an octave. “Let’s feed you.’’

“Food,’’ I grit my teeth. “I want real, human food.’’

Something akin to sympathy flashes behind her red eyes, but it’s gone in an instant, leaving me to wonder if I just imagined it. She purses her lips briefly, her gaze taking me in from head to toe.

“Alright. I’ll give you human food.’’

I blink, taken aback by her quick agreement. My mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Somehow, I’m paralyzed to the spot, and even my body stops trembling. Her stare is intense, terrifying, almost. Not once have I seen the depths, the darkness in her eyes so prominent and obvious.

Breath hitches in my throat, and all sense seems to have left my mind. Ophelia appears in front of me, and the faint breeze of the night pushes her hair back. She stands tall in front of me, her face blank, almost too dead for my liking.

“I will give you human food,’’ she repeats. “But because you’re a newly turned vampire, it will kill you on the spot. You need blood — human blood, little hunter. The decision is yours. Pick.’’

Shivers run down my body, chills spreading all throughout. Almost as if someone’s poured a bucket of ice water all over me, and I’m instantly awake. No matter how much I wish this weren’t my reality, how much I want to kill Ophelia for turning me into this monster, I can’t.

She’s right, and I hate it.

“Blood,’’ I say, words barely above a whisper. The mere thought of drinking blood to survive makes me sick, and I’m wondering how the fuck I’ll be able to stomach it down.

Ophelia nods, a hint of triumph in the little smirk that quirks her upper lip. “Good choice.’’

Without missing a beat, Ophelia picks me up, bridal style, as if I weigh nothing. A small scream of protest slips from me, but she ignores it skillfully. The proximity is…surprisingly relaxing. The ache, the hunger, and the panic I’m feeling slowly start to disappear the longer I’m in her embrace.

That goddamn stupid flowery scent wafts up my nose, and it’s all I can smell, and feel. The anger subsides drastically, and suddenly, it’s like I’m in a protective bubble. It’s warm, and I feel myself relaxing.

Ophelia speeds through the castle. Yet, with this new vision, I see every detail. I thought it would be blurry, given the speed — but it’s clear. Every image on the walls, every crack, every torch that’s lighting up the corridors. All of it is perfectly clear, and even the darker spots seem bright.

She pushes the door open with her foot, and immediately, my senses get overwhelmed. I don’t even know how to describe it — like all my favorite meals all in one. Yet, it’s not food.

It’s a massive walk-in fridge. It’s packed with small blood bags, in various sizes, some even packed in wine bottles. My eyes dart all around as Ophelia lowers me down, then walks over to one of the shelves, skimming through the bags.

“Say goodbye to your heartbeat.’’

“Excuse me?”

She turns around, carrying a blood bag. The liquid inside the see-through plastic container squishes as she squeezes it lightly, eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“The moment you start feeding, you’ll completely turn into a vampire, little hunter. If you opt out, and decide to die, you’ll die from the venom in your veins. It’ll be as painful as a thousand deaths forced upon you at once.’’

I don’t want to die, that much is clear.

But is this the life I can live? Not only to be alive forever — or until I’m killed — but to also have human blood as food? The thoughts are swirling in my mind, yet my eyes are glued to the blood bag. I cannot look away, as if I’m being hypnotized.

The crimson color seems to be calling me, and the longer I’m staring at it, the less I can think rationally. All I want and need is to drink it all, until it fills my stomach. The hunger is slowly starting to get to me, and I step forward, forcing my eyes to look up at Ophelia’s face.

Something odd is in her expression. I’d say it’s worry, but knowing Ophelia, it would be impossible for her to be concerned. Why would she be concerned about me? A small frown is on her face, before her lips thin into a line.

Ophelia pops the small lid on the bag open, and the smell hits me at once. My mouth waters, and I can barely understand what I’m doing. Before Ophelia can hand me the bag of blood, I’m already standing within a breathing distance away from her, my hand circling around her wrist.

I bring the bag to my lips, and that’s when Ophelia squeezes it.

Blood flows into my mouth, and I slurp it up, swallowing every drop greedily.

This feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced.

All the pain in my teeth, all the second-guessing vanishes the moment the first drop of blood hits my tongue, and I cannot get enough.

She squeezes it tighter, causing a bigger wave of blood to fill my mouth.

Some of it drips down the corner of my lips, my eyes closed as I savor it.

Strangely, it tastes sweet. Like cotton candy I used to get at fairs with my mom, or maybe even those sweet strawberry lemonades Dad used to make for my birthday.

Ophelia tosses the empty bag away, then steps closer to me. Her thumb wipes the drops of blood that are smeared on my chin, bringing her thumb to her lips and sucking it off. My breath hitches in my throat, her eyes directly on me.

The motion is provocative, and I feel heat pool in the pit of my stomach, twisting in something I could only assume is arousal.

I try to push the thoughts aside, yet when I see her looking at me with such an intense gaze, filled with longing and lust, I’m barely able to hold myself back from pouncing on her.

Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me?

“Are you alright?”

Her voice breaks my train of thoughts, and I nod, though it’s weak. My entire body feels like I’m floating, like I’m on cloud nine. Everything around me blurs, and Ophelia’s face is the main focus.

“I’m…’’ I try to respond, finding the words difficult to voice out. “I’m okay.’’

“Okay,’’ she repeats slower, in a lower tone, eyebrows narrowing in suspicion. “Alright, if you say so. You’re about to pass out again, though.’’

“What?”

She hums. “It takes you a while to get used to vampirism. I’ll catch you, don’t worry.’’

As soon as her sweet voice hits my ears, I start feeling drowsy. It reminds me of that one time when I had a few too many shots of tequila on an empty stomach, my vision blurring, and my legs barely supporting my weight.

Ophelia’s right there, catching me by the forearms before I slump to the floor. Yet again, the last thing I see before I close my eyes are her red ones, the gaze burning me on the inside.

—

When I wake up, I find myself in the same bedroom from earlier.

This time, I take a moment to look around, and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s Ophelia’s bedroom.

It’s big, easily twice the size of my dorm back at the agency.

It has an ensuite bathroom connected through the door, and a walk-in closet.

Ophelia’s scent lingers in the air, the vanity filled with her makeup, her perfumes, and all of her jewelry.

It’s all gold, though. Not a single thing that isn’t made out of gold chains, and on a couple of things, there are rubies.

The gold is thin, and some of it seems very old, as old as the bracelet she’s wearing.

I stand in front of the big mirror, looking at myself.

My hair is shiny, the split ends I had before turning now in perfect state. It’s silky smooth to the touch, and there’s not even a single matted or tangled spot. It has more volume, too.

My skin has no blemishes. The scars I’ve gotten over the years as a hunter are gone, replaced by skin so perfect that reminds me of Botox. My nails are stronger, too. They’re long and don’t seem as fragile as before.

My cheeks have lost the pink color they always had, but my eyes are…

not as dead. The strangest part of it all is my eyes.

They’re a bright, honey gold shade. I was born with eyes as brown as they could possibly get, and all vampire’s eyes turn pitch black when they transform. Why the fuck are mine gold?

I step closer, leaning into the mirror for a clearer inspection. There are small specks of white mixed in with the gold, and that’s what makes them look outstanding. Quickly, I step back, giving myself a glance over.

There are so many things I want to ask Ophelia, to know why the fuck she turned me into this creature. But before that, I need a fucking shower.

The bathroom is just as I’d expect of a castle. Everything is very much vintage, reminding me of the Victorian era. Surprisingly, she doesn’t have a mirror in the bathroom, but has two shelves filled with clean towels and another one with some products I doubt she needs as a vampire.

I’m quick to use her shampoo, her conditioner, and her body wash. My eyes close, jaw clenching shut as her scent fills me. Now, it’s on me, too. And I don’t know if I hate it or love it. The thought of basking in her scent makes my heart skip a beat.

I pause mid-rinsing out the body wash.

She said my heart would stop beating, which is to be expected, given that I’m dead now. The vampire venom has killed all the cells that make a human, and my blood is being replaced by that liquid of theirs — whatever it is.

My palm flies to my chest, and I feel the heart pumping inside of me. Something in me flutters, happiness consuming me. Although it’s impossible to reverse vampirism, it’s making me more hopeful for the future that I can feel my own heartbeat.

Quickly, I finish up in the shower, going back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around me. My feet carry me toward the walk-in closet, and…well, it feels like a blast from the past.

I highly doubt any of these have been used in the fashion industry in the recent fucking centuries. Ophelia owns a lot of suits, a lot of dress shirts, and a lot of heels. They’re as high as they could possibly get, and the thought of having to walk in those longer than an hour makes me wince.

My hands reach for a sundress, and I pull it out to try it on. The cotton feels fantastic on my skin, hugging my figure in all the right spots. It falls to the floor, covering my feet, and I’m assuming it reaches Ophelia’s ankles perfectly.

It’s white, with deep purple small lavender flowers scattered around.

It has spaghetti straps, and as someone with bigger chest, I’m scared they will fucking spill over.

But everything else in this closet is either definitely not my style, or I have no idea how to put it on because it’s from way before my time.

Barefoot, I exit the bedroom, my footsteps silent against the floors.

It’s early in the morning, and all the torches have been blown out.

Immediately, I pause. There’s a wide window on the left side that sunlight peeks through.

It’s the first glimpse of the sun I’ve seen since turning into a vampire.

Hesitantly, I reach out, only the tips of my fingers hitting the sunlight.

The reaction is immediate. A low scream tears from my throat, reverberating in the narrow hallway. I pull my hand back, looking at the tips of my fingers. They’re pitch black. My eyes widen at the sight, but before I can properly look at them, it heals up, returning the flesh to its original state.

“Holy shit,’’ I mutter, glancing upward. I’m not sure how to walk through this, because if I allow myself to get burned, I’ll die. The moment the sunlight touches my skin, specifically, my chest, it’s game over for me.

How fantastic.