Page 53 of Inked & Bloodbound

She sends me a message through the void:It’s okay. I’m okay.

I dart my tongue out to taste her skin, and my whole body relaxes. I angle my mouth and position the two sharp points of my teeth around a swelling vein. Her pulse quickens, and I feel it rush with blood whooshing beneath the surface.

When my fangs sink into her neck, she gasps—a sharp intake of breath that makes me freeze. But her hand comes up to thread through my hair, holding me to her.

The first taste of her blood hits my tongue, and nothing else matters. I’ve fed from hundreds of humans over the centuries, but nothing—absolutely nothing—has ever tasted like this.

Her blood is earthy and rich, like deep soil after rain, punctuatedby bursts of sweetness like vineyard grapes ripened in the sun that make my entire being sing with recognition. It’s not just sustenance; it’s like drinking liquid starlight, like tasting the essence of life itself.

Just take what you need,her voice whispers through our connection.

With each swallow, I grow stronger. The burns across my chest begin to fade, new skin forming where the sun had destroyed it. I close my eyes and listen to every beat of her heart, steady and strong, the rhythm becoming the center of my universe. Her delicious nectar flows onto my tongue like the sweetest honey, healing parts of me I didn’t know were broken.

Fuck,she moans in pleasure. The sound of her voice punctuated my frenzy.Cass, it feels like you’re inside me.

I drink until I’m drowning in her, lost in the sensation of becoming whole again. Her blood tastes like everything I’ve been searching for across five centuries of existence—home, peace, belonging. I want to drink forever, to merge with her completely until there’s no distinction between where she ends and I begin.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear a whimper.

But then something changes. Her voice grows fainter, more distant.

Cassini…that’s…that’s enough…

The words are weak, fading, but still, I can’t stop. The taste of her is too intoxicating, too perfect. I need more. I need all of her.

Stop…

I hear the word somewhere in the distance and try to locate it, but all I see is a mist of red. Swirling and turbulent. All I can hear is the rush of blood pulsing through her veins, growing fainter and quieter. Her body twitches against me, but I barely register it.

Please…

It’s only when her body goes limp in my arms that I finally snap back to myself.

I jerk away from her neck, my fangs retracting, horror flooding through me as I look down at what I’ve done. Her eyes flutter closed,her skin pale as paper, and when I press my ear to her chest, her heartbeat is barely a whisper.

Her knuckles are white, her fingernails coated in blood from digging so deeply into my flesh that they’ve broken through to my skin. I hadn’t noticed her clawing at me.

“Lily?” My voice cracks. “Lily, can you hear me?”

Her head lolls against the couch cushions, and I run my thumb over the twin puncture wounds on her neck, still weeping blood.

Too much blood. Far too much.

I search her skin for answers, the warmth in her cheeks stolen by me, as I calculate how much blood I’ve taken from her.

A quart? More? A gallon? I took too much. It was all too much. If I hadn’t been so weak, I could have stopped myself. Could have controlled my pathetic urges better.

“Dio mio, what have I done?” I whisper, gathering her limp form against my chest.

I press my fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse I can already hear fading. I tenderly kiss her forehead with bloodstained lips, pressing my nose against her to inhale the scent of her scalp, but when I pull back, all I see is horror.

A bloody smear from my mouth seeping into her hairline.

“Lily, please. Please wake up.”

18

LILY