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Dastien’s skin usually had a golden tan to it. Now it was ghostly pale. He was covering his eyes with one of his arms. He hadn’t even turned his head to look at me.
He was wrong. I definitely had to get up. My legs were wobbly, threatening to give out, so I stood still, holding onto the edge of the couch just in case they did.
He moved his arm just enough to see me, his gaze still a glowing amber. “How are you moving?”
“Sheer stubbornness. Plus, I still have a bit of energy left from everyone else.” That was the only explanation for why I was only eighty-five percent useless, and he was one hundred percent zonked.
He grunted and closed his eyes. I figured since my legs hadn’t given out yet, it was safe enough to drag myself to the kitchen.
Even if I was better off than Dastien, it wasn’t by much. Being this weak made me nervous. I couldn’t protect myself. But feeling Dastien so weak was even more unsettling.
I tried to funnel him some power, but he shut it down. “Stop. One of us needs to be strong enough to get food. You give me your energy and we’re both going to be blobs on the floor. You don’t have enough to spare right now.”
“But—”
“I’ll be okay. Just work on food.”
I licked my lips and winced. They still had the coppery tang of Dastien’s blood on them. I stumbled to the sink and turned the water on hot. I couldn’t do anything else before washing my face. The scent of dried blood wasn’t exactly appetizing. It was in my hair a little too, but that would take a shower. I didn’t have the energy for that yet.
I splashed my face until the water was clear and then rubbed some more. I could still smell the blood. Trying not to cringe too much, I squirted a tiny dot of dish soap in my hand and lathered my face up. After I was done I smelled like fake lemon, but that was better than old blood, so I was calling it a win. I dried my face with a dishtowel and threw it on the counter. Just that little bit of effort had me out of breath.
Time for food.
I leaned against the counter, trying to figure out what we should have. The fridge was fully stocked, but I didn’t have the energy to make anything. Before I became a werewolf, a large part of my diet had been taken up by yogurt and Zone bars or avocado toast and eggs. Now I had to eat so much more. Learning to cook was part of surviving. Over the course of our honeymoon, I’d upped my chef skills, but everything I could come up with was going to take too much time and require too much effort. And we needed so much…
The room swam as I stepped toward the fridge. I grabbed a chocolate bar from the door and ate a few bites to get some instant energy. Even eating my favorite thing, I had to force myself to chew. This was so messed up.
I followed the chocolate with a swig of OJ straight from the carton and then dug through the freezer until I found a few meat-lovers pizzas. Minimal effort with a decent amount of calories.
I took another swig of the OJ and tried to think of what I should do next, but all I could picture was the demon’s face. The smile that sent fear rushing through every fiber of my being. Everything in me was urging to run but what good would that do if he could get inside of my head and take control. I couldn’t—
Stop. Dastien’s voice cut through my panicked thoughts. We need food first. Then we can figure out what’s happening.
Right. I’m on it.
I slid the pizzas onto the baking trays and put them in the oven, skipping that whole pre-heating nonsense. Then I grabbed a few mini-cakes and fed them to Dastien.
“You okay?”
He gave me the tiniest of nods. “More food, though.”
“I’ll be back.” I went back to the kitchen and started grabbing everything out of the fridge and dropping it on the couch. It took me a few trips and I made a mess. Cheese and deli meats and mini-cakes and pickles and fruit and anything else we had in there were strewn all over the couch and the floor beside it.
My last trip was the hardest. I grabbed a two liter of Coke and two cups. The bottle might as well have weighed a million pounds. It took me a second, but I managed to get some liquid in the cups.
I held the one out to Dastien and he just looked at me. He was thinking about how much effort sitting up would take and was the soda really worth it.
“Shit.” I’d really drained him.
I set the sodas on the coffee table and then bent down next to him. I grabbed his forearms and jerked, but he didn’t move at all. “Come on. Help a little.” I tried again and managed to get him sitting up, resting against the bottom of the couch. My breathing was a little too labored. The guy was heavy, but I was a werewolf. I should’ve been able to bench press him without much effort.
“Here. Drink.” Water probably would’ve been better, but it also didn’t have calories. I handed him the glass.
The soda sloshed around as his hands shook. I looked at the sea of food on the couch as I slid to the floor next to Dastien. “Here,” I said grabbing a package of cold cuts. “Eat this.” When he was chewing, I figured I should find something myself. I grabbed a pound block of cheddar and tore the wrapper open with my teeth.
Then it was a bag of potato chips. A pile of Bimbo cakes. More cold cuts. A jar of pickles. I made a few more trips to the kitchen to empty out the pantry.
By the time the oven dinged, we’d gone through basically everything except the condiments. I dragged myself up and went back to the kitchen.
