Page 88 of Fated to Her

“Addie, you need to feed,” Eli says.

I shake my head. “I’m not leaving her,” I tell him, though the burning is terrible. My entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“I don’t understand how she can fight it,” Cyrus says, looking at me.

“Maybe because she was drinking it while pregnant,” Eli whispers to him.

My hearing is so much better; I can even hear their hearts beating, see the grains of dirt on the ground, the perspiration in the air; everything is sharper, and it is a little distracting.

Hearing my son make a sucking sound behind me, I peer over my shoulder at Cyrus. Our son is bundled up in his arms, drinking a bottle.

“Can I hold him?” I ask.

They glance at me nervously.

“If you feed first,” Eli says.

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

“You won’t be for long, Addie. Just feed and I’ll let you hold him,” Eli says. And I stare at my son in Cyrus’s arms, drinking a bottle that is tinged red. I can smell the blood in the formula.

“Where did you get the formula?”

“Off one of the mothers here,” Cyrus says.

I hold my hands out for him.

“Please, feed first,” Eli says, coming over where I’m sitting on the hay bale next to my sister’s body. He crouches in front of me. “Please, Addie. You don’t want to harm him, do you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

Eli bites his wrist, his blood making my mouth water. A growl escapes me, and I place my hand over my mouth. My fangs elongate painfully, tearing through my gums, making my eyes water. I shake my head.

“Addie, I’ll force you if I have to,” Eli says, biting into his now healed wrist again before standing.

I sigh, standing. “What if I can’t stop?” I can smell my sister’s blood, but it smells funky because she is technically dead and not appealing at all. But Eli’s is mouthwatering.

“I’ll stop you,” Eli says.

I get up and Eli sits on the hay bale, pulling me down on his lap. I can feel his nervousness, but I’m also happy I’m going to feed on him. I grab his wrist, a menacing noise leaving me as I sink my fangs into him, his blood flooding my mouth, warm and soothing the ache in my throat.

His other hand brushes my hair from my face and he kisses the side of my face, and I jerk his hand away from me. His blood runs down my chin, and I shake my head, trying to control the urge to keep feeding away. I run my thumb over my lips before sucking the blood off them. My gaze darts to our son, and Cyrus is watching me before stepping closer.

I try to get up, but Eli pulls me back down on him as Cyrus approaches me. He places my son in my arms, and I pull him closer, taking the bottle from Cyrus that I can tell has Eli’s blood in it. I shake the urge to feed on his blood, enticing my senses now that I can actually smell his scent.

“You okay? Or do you want Cyrus to take him?” Eli asks behind me.

“I’m fine. I won’t hurt him,” I tell him, and I feel him put his chin on my shoulder, gazing down at our son in my arms.

He has Cyrus’s caramel-colored eyes with a tinge of red running through the pupils and black hair like Eli. I pop the bottle in his mouth, his eyes changing to a red color as he peers up at me, sucking on his bottle, his little fingers wrapped around the index finger of the hand holding the bottle.

Leaning down, I feel Eli tense, and Cyrus steps closer as I press my lips to his little forehead before sitting back up and staring at my sister, who still lies motionless, though she has a heartbeat—faint, but there.

When he’s done feeding, I hand the bottle to Cyrus before placing him on my chest and rubbing his little back. He eventually falls asleep, and Cyrus and Eli both relax when they realize I won’t eat my own son.

I don’t know how long we wait in the stables before Taylor sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes flying open, burning brightly then turning black. She screams, making me jump. Cyrus takes our son from me, and I rush over to her. Her back arches off the makeshift bed, and there’s a terrible cracking sound as she screams loudly. Maverick runs in and goes to her side. I try to hush and soothe her, but she screams louder and louder as her spine starts snapping.

“Taylor?” I cry.