Page 20 of Entombed By Blood

I smile. Maybe we have a chance after all.

Chapter Eight

Evelyn

The momentI’ve drunk enough to realise what’s happening, I know this is a trap. Another test.

Cain shoved me in this box as punishment for betraying him. He’ll only allow me out when he feels I’ve learned my lesson.

But, God... the blood is so tempting.

The smallest drop banishes my thirst, and I want to moan.

It’s powerless compared to the blood of my new thralls. The nourishment weak in comparison to the life force of an immortal.

Thetastethough…

I drain the strange bag it came in and slurp at it long past the point where it’s empty. It slides from my grip to litter the floor of my coffin, keeping the scent of it trapped in with me.

The lycan outside—Silas—said it’s chocolate.

But vampires can’t stomach human food.

I shift against the silver, hissing as it burns more of my exposed skin.

I’ll stay in here as long as it takes.

But the silver is already weakening me again. Making my instincts roar in my head until they drown out the small voice of my sanity that’s desperately trying to stay afloat.

The scent of that blood taunts me. Not as good as the fresh stuff, but still sweet and addictive in a way that can’t be natural. Have I been drugged?

More of it might be just outside the door. The thought makes my stomach clench in demand.

I’m sothirsty.

No noise comes from the other side of the lid. Perhaps the men have left.

No. Cain will have assigned them to me. Only a fool would disobey his orders.

So why can’t I hear them?

I push the lid, opening it the barest fraction of an inch.

Nothing. The room is dark. The scents are old.

They left me alone?

This must be a trap.

I slam the lid closed and wince at the noise. Every part of my blistering body tenses further, waiting for their retaliation.

My mouth is so dry. My body demands more blood to heal all of the damage done by the silver.

Soon I won’t have a choice. Just like earlier, instinct will take over.

I’ll gorge on whatever blood I can find.

I have to pull enough of my fractured thoughts together to make a choice. It doesn’t help that my mind is consumed by thirst, fear, and blood. The urge to leap out of this box and justrunas far as I can is so strong, but not as strong as the fear of what my sire will do when he catches me.