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The lack of a single scar shows that this is her first offering. A gift from my queen and a symbol to all others of my importance to her.
The guards stop halfway inside the room and release the woman. When she doesn’t move on her own accord, the larger of the two shoves a hand against the human’s back, causing her to stumble.
“Do you offer your blood willingly?” the other demands.
“Yes.” The one-word answer is flat and emotionless, but she holds her head high.
The second guard makes a barely audible sound of derision as he thrusts a sharp object into the mortal’s hand, squeezing her fingers to tighten her grip. She whimpers.
Immediately, the pungent tang of blood fills the room as it cuts into her palm. A dagger without a hilt. Thick drops patter to the floor.
Hunger transforms into a beast with claws, sinking into my chest and shredding its way up my throat.
The harder I try to remember what events happened that left me in such a starving and weak state, the more my mind feels as if something has bored holes into my mind, draining away memories.
It does not matter.
Only our queen matters…
The human approaches, stopping half an arm’s length away. Her chest rises and falls with rapid, shallow breaths. She waits for my answer to an unspoken question. My gaze flickers from the mortal’s wrist to her neck.
I must hesitate too long because she drags the blade across her wrist with a sharp inhale, then presses the metal point to her shoulder near her neck.
Blood wells up from each wound, spilling over in macabre rivulets. I am moments from losing the tenuous grip on my control.
A tear spills over as the blade begins to sink in.
“Feed,” Elizabeth says.
I turn from the mortal and give my queen my full attention.
Our wants are nothing if she is not pleased.
“You must be at your strongest if you are to rule beside me.”
It is all the command I need.
I reach out and take the woman’s arm and pull her closer. My fangs are buried in her wrist before the dagger clatters at our feet. The first pull of blood is painful as it fights to quench my vicious thirst.
It feels as if centuries have passed since I last fed. The blood lends me strength, quelling the sting. But rather than sating the hunger, the edges only dull while the need only increases, leaving me little more than a creature of instinct.
A single thought prevails as I drink.
More.
I release her wrist, pulling the human in, and clamp down on the wound just above her collarbone. She clings to me, her weak fingers curl into the lapels of my jacket and soft, unintelligible noises work free of her throat.
She wobbles and leans forward, supporting herself against me. She sighs. Her knees give out and I lower us, kneeling. The flow of blood slows, her heartbeat faint when I finally wrench my fangs from her flesh.
Before she falls, the two guards grab her by the arms and haul her back several feet. She gasps. They let go and she crumples in a heap on the floor. The taller guard toes her in the ribs with his boot, giving her a hard shove. The motion rocks her body, but she is otherwise still. Not a single breath stirs within her chest.
After a silent command, the human’s lifeless body is removed from the room. The only trace left behind are the reek of mortality and the blood she spilled. It soaks into the area rug, blending with the intricate design.
I don’t think she was supposed to die.
Alone once more with my queen grants me a small comfort through the rising turmoil.
Humans are born to die. This is nothing new,the thought hisses from the shadows of my mind.She chose this death.
