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Suddenly, everything about the space felt tighter. Constricting.
Narcissa sat on the opposing sofa.
“Great,” Narcissa pushed, raising a prodding brow. “Now that we’re all cozy here, are we ready to start telling the truth?”
Lyra stiffened from the corner of my eye. “I’ve told you everything,” she replied.
“I’m not talking about you, darling.” She smiled snidely.
Me. “I came here for your help, didn’t I?” I snapped.
Narcissa's eyes narrowed. She sat a handful of feet away from me, but I could still feel it as if her eyes were physically pushing themselves into my chest.
“I sensed something different about you when we summoned the veil in the forest,” she pressed. “Something dark. Something hungry.”
Lyra flinched beside me. I wanted to shield her from this. All of it. I didn’t want her to know about this, about this dark thing sleeping inside me.
But she already knew. Lying and running and hiding was only hurting her more.
I bowed my head. “It’s new,” I muttered. “It began after my father killed me. I had tasted her blood before, but I didn’t have the same pull to it as I do now.”
The birds outside quit chirping. The subtle hum in the air silenced.
Nobody spoke.
Hell, I was certain everyone was listening to my pounding heart as I kept my eyes focused on the toes of my black boots, on the specks of dirt there.
“Speak.” Narcissa’s voice changed. Hardened.
“What would you have me say?” I snapped, my eyes flashing up to hers. “That I didn’t come back from that veil the same man I went into it as? That my own father murdered me so he might manipulate the woman I love into saving my brother? That I fucking hate myself every day because I want… I want…”
“You want what?” Narcissa pushed, leaning closer.
I turned my attention to Lyra. She still inched away from me, but her eyes were locked on mine, her brows raised and lips parted.
“I crave her,” I said, keeping my eyes on Lyra. I don’t know why I expected her to look away, but when she didn’t, my chest tightened.
That familiar wave of heat started to crawl through me.
“You crave her blood,” Narcissa said. Lyra inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering.
“Yes.”
“That scares you.”
I didn’t blink. “Terrifies me.”
Narcissa took a long, even break and relaxed backward on the emerald couch. Then she looked to Lyra. “And you, darling?” she asked. “Does that terrify you?”
Lyra adjusted her shoulders before stilling. She sat with her chin lifted slightly, the same defiance she always had. The same defiance I fucking loved. “No,” she breathed. “It doesn’t scare me.”
I searched her face for a hint of a lie, but I found nothing. Just beauty. Confidence. Love. Anger.
“Do you want her blood right now, boy?” Narcissa asked.
My stomach dropped in response. My fists tightened involuntarily. “Yes.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Lyra again, not with the truth strung out in front of us, clear as day.
