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“Clearly, you do.” I slammed him against the brick wall again. Hard. “I’ve known men like you my whole life. You’re cowards. You’re filth. This world will be a better place without you.”
My black boots ground against the loose pavement as I pinned him to the brick. My hands shook against his throat, either with rage or nerves, I didn’t know. Didn’t care.
No amount of nerves was going to hold me back. That pit in my stomach, that feeling that never subsided wouldn’t let me stop.
And now that I smelt the blood dripping from the back of his head, the darkness in my mind swarmed.
I was crossing a line here, I knew it. But nothing else would give me relief from those constant cravings of Lyra’s blood.
“Woah, man,” he exclaimed, his breath growing labored beneath my hands on his throat. “Just calm down. We can talk about this if you let me go!”
“Don’t worry. It will be over soon. Not like you deserve a quick death, anyway.”
There was nothing fucking enjoyable about the bile that rose in my throat right before I bit him, sinking my demon fangs into his filthy, disgusting flesh.
But it was necessary.
This would be painful and torturous for him. Biting could be enjoyable, yes, but I reserved that only for Lyra.
This was not Lyra, and every fucking ounce of my soul knew that before the first drop of blood landed on my tongue.
But that hunger, that endless pit inside me would only subside with blood. Even if it wasn’t her blood, it would do.
It would have to.
He struggled against me, but I hardly noticed. Even at full capacity, a human would be no match for my demon strength. It was pathetic how easy this was.
I drank, feeling the liquid pour down the back of my throat, warming me from the inside out.
I drank and drank and drank, barely making a dent in that void, barely curbing the hunger that threatened to overtake me.
Hunger. What a funny word for it. I had never felt hunger until I made my way back from the veil, not really.
It had started so slowly; I didn’t even recognize it. Not at first.
And after I drank Lyra’s blood in the ballroom…
The sleeping beast had awoken.
I drank more, wanting—no, needing—to drink enough so I could go back home and sleep next to Lyra tonight without listening to every torturous beat of her heart, without wanting to sink my teeth into her.
She was nothing like these humans. Their blood was… it wasn’t pure.
Not like Lyra’s.
The man stopped struggling beneath me.
Fuck.
I pulled away, but his head had already lolled to the side.
My bite had been rushed and messy. Blood smeared the side of his face and dripped down his chest.
Yet the sight of this monster dead brought a subtle satisfaction. At least now he wouldn’t be preying on young women at the club anymore.
Before his limp body could collapse entirely, I threw him over my shoulder and carried him to the dumpster a few feet away. Someone would find him in the morning. By then, I would be long gone. Besides, nobody was going to care about scum like him. The police would investigate a few humans, but then it would be over.
I wiped the remaining blood from my lips, trying not to gag as I licked my fingers clean.
