Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Which means I’m strong. I just don’t know it yet.
And this strength comes from Coyrah. That’s what Lucia was telling me.
I am a Black witch and a Black witch is nothing to fuck with.
Eventually I have to concede that I can’t stay here in the dirt. My body still hurts from all the bites and it’s not getting any better. I don’t think it will get better until I drink from Ryet. And whatever is happening to him, that won’t get any better until he drinks from me.
For better or worse, I love him. He’s my partner. And even if he is a monster now, with little or no resemblance to the man I met in White River, he’s all I’ve got.
I’m not gonna give him up. I can’t. If there’s a way to keep him, I will find it.
It feels like a hollow promise. Something lackluster. I mean, it’s not romantic at all. It’s practical. And I really hate that.
But I cut myself some slack and let out a breath. Because none of this is my fault. Yes, I have made some seriously bad decisions over the past couple of months, but it was mostly reaction to circumstance. It’s not like I planned on becoming something evil. It’s not like I had a choice, either. This is what was handed to me. I’m just doing the best I can to save myself. Which, again, feels a little gross. But self-preservation isn’t a sin. It’s an instinct.
This word makes me cringe because animals have instincts and I’m already feeling less and less human as the moments tick off. But my way out was a choice I gave up back in that bedroom in Paul’s lodge. When I saved Ryet, I agreed to walk this path and now that I’m here, I had better start thinking of me.
No one else is.
Whatever Ryet is to me, whatever he will become, remains to be seen. We are in a relationship. It’s symbiotic through the blood lust, so it’s not a romantic relationship. But it is a relationship. A new one at that. In fact, even though Ryet and I have been through some serious shit over a short period of time, we don’t actually know each other yet.
We’re still in the honeymoon stage. Granted, he’s a monster and I’m a witch and our attraction is mostly about the blood lust, but it doesn’t have to be that way.
He could love me. If he’s capable of it. If he’s not, well… then what I do next is even more important. If I don’t want to end up like my grandma, then I need to make calculated decisions from this point on.
I need to make sure Ryet and I have a chance to get to know each other again. I need that dream life Paul cooked up for us at the Guild. We were getting along. We were a team.
And if I choose my steps carefully, we can be a team again. I can save that dynamic between us even if I can’t save myself.
Misery loves company.
I don’t like the way that sounds but I refuse to walk into my future without an ally when he’s literally in the dirt next to me and is most likely more than willing to come along. Even if it is only so he can feed on my blood.
So that’s what I have to do. I have to feed him. Hopefully, once I’m done, and if he’s sane, he will feed me back.
That’s the only choice I have at the moment. That’s the only way to keep him.
Making my way through the dirt is a slow process because I’m deep in the earth and the dirt has to go somewhere and the only place is the cavity I leave behind me. One handful at a time, I make enough room to turn. Then, one handful at a time, I start inching sideways.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been doing this when I smell his blood—maybe an hour? Maybe a day? Maybe a lifetime?
But the scent of him wipes away all the exhaustion I am feeling and I claw faster until, finally, my hand finds his shoulder.
I stop here, inhaling deeply, and close my eyes. Because his blood is so close. But this pause is barely a moment because my drive to feed on him is so strong, I couldn’t stop what I’m about to do next if I wanted to. And I don’t.
Both hands are now furiously scooping dirt away from his body and pushing it behind me. “Ryet?” I whisper. “Can you hear me?”
He stirs, but doesn’t wake.
I can see his neck now. I’ve uncovered most of his face and the top of his chest. And I just stare at his jugular—which is throbbing and pulsating with such a fervor, I almost lean down and bite it.