“The bloodlust hits hard at first.”
Another glance my way.
“I should’ve gotten you home sooner. Staying at that last store that long was my fault.”
As I stared out the car window, lights streaking across the glass, I realized I didn't have the heart to tell him that wasn't the part that was bothering me.
Rack had offered himself willingly. More than willingly. He’d practically begged me to take from him, and we both got off. Myeyes drifted down to the napkins in my hand, evidence that we enjoyed ourselves, so that wasn't the issue.
What left me feeling unsettled was the pull sitting under my ribs like a hook tied to an invisible string. One that led back to the house. Back to Calix.
Every mile closer made that strange pressure tighten.Is that what a maker bond felt like? Some instinctive craving?
The thought made me immediately tense.
No, I reminded myself. Even before all this, before the blood, the turning, the insanity, I’d wanted him.
The back of my calf suddenly itched. I absently scratched it, expecting to feel a bump or a bruise, but there was nothing there. Just a persistent irritation beneath the skin.
Ignoring it, I let my head fall back against the seat.
If I’d never died… If I’d stayed human… If Calix had shown up again the next day asking for another date, another dance, another night…
I would’ve said yes. Without hesitation.
Everything about him lingered in me.
That lazy grin. The way his body moved like he owned every room he entered. The electric spark that snapped through me every time his eyes landed on mine.
And now Rack was there too. Steady. Devoted. Looking at me like I was the center of his entire world and fucking me like I was the only goddess he knew.
It felt like my chest was being pulled in opposite directions at once. Neither was winning, yet I was unable to let either go.
The worst part?
I didn’t hate any of it.
Some twisted part of me felt… settled here. Wanted here. Safe.
I hadn’t felt that way since meeting Alto. The thought of him made my stomach tighten.
More than once, I’d almost called him. My thumb hovered over his number every single time before I chickened out and locked the phone again.
I couldn’t face him yet. Not like this. Not until I understood what I was becoming. Not until I figured out who’d killed me. Not until I felt strong enough to stand in front of him and apologize for everything. And for that, I needed to be stronger.
By the time we pulled into the garage on the side of the house, exhaustion was weighing on me hard.
When I told Rack I wanted to sleep, his brows pulled together.
“Something wrong?”
The concern in his voice almost made me feel worse, and I shook my head quickly.
“I just need time to… process all this.”
His eyes searched my face for another few seconds before he finally nodded. He leaned down, pausing to give me a chance to move away, and when I didn't, he pressed a soft kiss against the top of my head.
My chest squeezed painfully at how gentle he was with me. I hated pulling away afterward. Hated the flicker of doubt that crossed his face before he covered it, but my mind felt too crowded already.
