Page 42 of Revenant

The hunger won’t go away. I haven’t felt it this strong since turning, the bloodthirst festers beneath my skin like I’m a bloody fledgling. From the moment she stepped foot on campus, everything’s been different. Dynamics among the five of us are changing, priorities shifting into something out of my control.

It’s a fucking mess.

I find myself wandering aimlessly through the corridor, up and down the halls, while my thoughts spiral out of control. Before I know it, I’m knocking on Elias’s door. He doesn’t answer, so I let myself in, the shower turning off as soon as he hears my arrival.

“Long night?” I call out, helping myself to his extensive collection of alcohol.

“Something like that.” But as soon as he enters the room, it hits me.

I’m on him faster than I can think, all of my senses zeroing in on one thing. “Why do you smell like her?” I growl. My fangs elongate on their own accord, seeking the only blood that will unfortunately satisfy me. It doesn’t matter that he showered; he could scrub layers off himself and it would still be ingrained into his essence.

“Chill out,” he says nonchalantly, pushing me away like I’m overreacting.

“Answer the question, Elias. Why do you smell like–”

“Jealous, brother?” he quips, throwing a shirt over his head with a smirk that’s grating on my last nerve. “Does it drive you mad to know I had her so close?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spit.

“So, it wouldn’t bother you to know she asked—no—begged me to have a taste of her? So she could know how it felt to feel the euphoric—” I slam him against the armoire, the ancient wood splintering from the impact. Elias doesn’t even flinch. He just stares at me with that infuriating knowing look—the one that says he’s already dissected me, already peeled back every layer I pretend I don’t have.

“Touchy,” he murmurs, breath steady despite my hand around his throat. “Did I strike a nerve?” His head ticks to the side, feigning ignorance.

“You’re lying,” I snarl, though the words scrape out more like a plea than a threat. “She wouldn’t—”

“Oh, she did.” His smirk widens, cruel and deliberate. “She was curious. Sweet, really.”

The bloodthirst roars in my ears, drowning out reason. My fangs pulse, my vision tunnels, and for a split second I swear I can taste her on my tongue. “Enough!”

“Why?” Elias tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “Because you can’t stand the thought of her choosing someone else? Because I hate to break it to you, but if we were in a race, you would be dead fucking last.”

“Oh, because I don’t coddle her like the lot of you?” The second it comes out of my mouth, I know what I’ve done. I took the bait, and we both know it. I don’t want her—can’t want her. It’s just some genetic coding that’s embedded in my DNA. Right now, she’s a novelty. But just a taste of her, even a drop, and I’m certain the illusion of her being on this pedestal will shatter.

At least that’s what I have to keep telling myself.

“Or,” he coos, “because she reminds you of Veil and you don’t know what the hell to do with that?”

I shove him harder, the armoire groaning under the strain. “Don’t fucking say her name.”

“Veil?” he repeats.

My fingers grab hold of the front of his shirt, and I slam him again, causing the entire wall to shake.

He laughs. “You’re predictable, brother. You always have been.”

“I should rip your throat out.”

“You won’t,” he says simply. “Because you know I’m right.”

I release him with a shove, pacing away before I do something I can’t take back. My hands tremble. My chest heaves. The hunger I’m feeling now a living thing, clawing at my insides, demanding blood—her blood.

Elias composes himself as if he wasn’t nearly strangled, going over to the small fridge, grabbing two blood bags, and tossing me one of them.

“Can’t,” I say sharply, even the look of it unappetizing.

“You should really feed before this gets out of hand. We don’t need two Bastians running around campus.”

“I’m not Bastian,” I state plainly.