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But the hunger… the hunger was the one thing I couldn’t ignore, the one wave that never retreated.
It sat like a rock in the pit of my stomach, screaming at me to feed, clawing and begging for relief.
“Is this what it always feels like?” I asked.
He smiled, drunk with exhaustion. I became accustomed to seeing him this way. Blood smeared his face, and dried sweat clung to his messy hair.
“More or less,” he replied. “But it’s always worse after a fight or an injury. It’s been a while since I’ve been restricted this way.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
I asked. “How do you usually do it? Feed, I mean.”
Wolf pushed himself up, looking at me with the reflection of flames lighting his face. Another wave of despair hit me, forcing me to suck in a breath. “Before Moira, I would sneak into the streets and take the blood from fae men. I don’t need a lot. It’s often over before they realize what’s happening.”
“It doesn’t kill them?”
Wolf’s jaw tightened. “I’ve succumbed to the bloodlust once, a long time ago. But I’ve never crossed that line again. That’s the difference between me and them, Huntress. That’s what makes me different from those monsters you’ve been raised to kill.”
I found myself mesmerized by the way he spoke. Something dark, something hidden lingered in his gaze. His eyes focused on the fire, lost in some memory I would have killed to see.
“And in Moira?”
He huffed. “Plenty of sleepless nights sneaking off into town. I couldn’t risk feeding from anyone and exposing my identity.”
“But why?” I asked. “I mean, why hide any of it?”
He tore his eyes from the fire and looked at me, into my soul. My stomach dropped, and I could no longer decipher my own emotions from the ones flooding through our bond.
“I’m an angel with black wings,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “Have I not fallen far enough?”
I smiled back, hoping it would cover the crack that split through my chest. I was quickly distracted by the next wave of hunger crashing at my bones.
“Tell me something,” Wolf said, tossing his own head back against the tree bark and shutting his eyes tightly. If I was feeling only a fraction of his hunger, I could only imagine what he felt. The constant agony had to be unbearable. “Distract me.”
“I always liked you better than Lanson,” I whispered. Fuck, I didn’t mean for that truth to come out, but I didn’t have time to think of a better one. Wolf’s eyes shot open. “I mean, I always felt indifferent toward him. He was a pleasant distraction here, that’s all.”
Wolf’s face softened. “Indifference,” he repeated. “That’s a safe way to feel about others. It protects you.”
“So does anger. So does hate.”
“No, anger means you care. Anger means there’s a piece of you somewhere that’s slipping. Anger happens when there is a battle still within yourself, when you’re trying to cover up pain.”
“Is that what you think of me? All those times we fought, did you think I was in pain?”
When he looked at me again, his light-filled eyes held hints of gold. “I see you, Huntress. I think you hold onto a lot of pain in your life, but I’m not sure why or from what. You are angry, yes, but you’re protecting yourself. That’s something I can relate to.”
Hells, he had no idea.
Pain had made me who I was. Pain had turned me into something violent, something indestructible.
“You didn’t want to bond with me,” I started. “Is it because of your hunger? Is that what you didn’t want me to feel?”
His head tilted to the side as he surveyed me. I felt too exposed, though I wasn’t sure why. After everything we had been through, his eyes made me feel more naked than anything.
Maybe it was because I knew he was right. He saw me.
“That’s some of it,” he answered with a breath.
