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“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you looking at Father Lucien. What? Are you going to get down on your knees for him, too?”
He dropped my splintering head back on the ground and smashed his palm into my cheek, grinding the side of my face into the grass and dirt. I whimpered, fluttering my eyelashes and trying to stop the ringing in my ears.
Blackness crept into the corners of my vision as I retreated into my mind.
“Grace!” a man yelled.
“God won’t ever forgive you,” another kid scoffed, keeping his voice low for only me to hear. “You’re a lost cause, thinking you’re some demon who loves sucking dick.”
My gums ached, and everything went black.
45
GRACE
Grace.
Snarls filled my head, and my nails scraped against something soft, slicing through it like butter. My stomach growled, and arousal shot through my body like a firework. My pussy clenched.
Grace.
I tried to open my eyes, but something held me in a deep, dark hole in my mind.
Grace.
The voice calling to me sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on who it belonged to. My head was fuzzy, and pain splintered my skull.
“She’s not here,” a scratchy feminine voice growled.
My chest vibrated with more snarls, as if it was coming from me.
The pull of sleep dragged me deeper into its depths.
Take her with you.
46
GRACE
My head throbbed like someone had taken a drill to it. It pulsed like a heartbeat, sending a shot of pain down my neck with each throb. I turned my head and whimpered when my muscles knotted and more pain shot through my skull. I cracked open my eyes, barely catching that I wasn’t in my bedroom. Flashes of black and cream-painted walls moved in front of my eyes before I had to close them again.
I must have been at the house I woke up in last time. I didn’t know if it belonged to Lucien or Daiman, but it didn’t matter to me.
A groan welled out of me as I turned my head again.
“Grace,” a familiar voice said from somewhere in the room.
I swallowed hard and cracked open my eyes. The light inside the room felt like knives stabbing inside my eyeballs. I slammed them shut with a whimper. “It hurts,” I groaned.
He touched my cheek, dragging his fingers over my tight skin. “You need to feed to heal.”
My stomach knotted painfully, taking that moment to growl. I tried to shake my head but stopped because it felt like my head was about to fall open in the middle.
“I can’t,” I sobbed.
“You don’t need to do anything. Just lay there and let me feed you,” he whispered.
“Daiman,” I breathed.
