82- Aftermath
POV Edric Eldoria:
After I had almost been killed, captured and fucked like I’d never been before — if the answer was “incredible,” would that sound very strange?
I cleared my throat.
“Well,” I admitted, leaving out a little of the truth.
I felt a little… embarrassed in front of him, after everything that had happened, after what we had done. It was as if we were two strangers sharing the same house.
I finished going down the stairs and walked around the sofa, stopping in front of him. The woody scent of his shampoo and soap drifted to me. I bit my cheeks and began to question my sanity.
Was drinking blood bad for you? Because, after everything that had happened, all I could think about was how much I wanted him to fuck me again. And I wasn’t even in heat.
“Are you hungry? Tired?” he asked, running his eyes over my body and fixing them on the mark at my neck. I noticed in them the same genuine satisfaction that had been in mine.
“I’m hungry,” I confessed, turning on my heels and walking to the kitchen. I had to keep away from him before I jumped into his lap. “I’ll cook something to eat. Do you want anything?”
Lyris had said something about a mating frenzy when I first arrived in Eldoria — could it be possible I was going through it again? After all, I had been marked by another male and then remark-ed by Edric. That had to mean something.
I cleared my throat and blinked, trying to focus only on the task and on him, in the moment.
“Yes, please.”
He looked tired, even exhausted, in a way I had never seen before. Edric was used to killing, always ready to fight. The wolves hadn’t even touched him; they weren’t strong enough. Still, he behaved as if he had no strength left, as if he’d been drained somehow.
Had I not drunk much of his blood, or had I? I frowned in confusion.
“I… uh…” I ran a hand through my hair, murmuring the words with a flushed face. He looked at me and waited. “Did I take too much blood?”
Saying it out loud sounded even worse.
A crease formed between his brows.
“No, why?”
I shrugged and began to move about the kitchen, gathering everything I would need to cook.
“You just seem tired,” I hissed after a while of silence.
He let out a flat laugh.
“You’re right, I feel tired.”
I looked away from the pans, drawing my gaze toward him.
“Why?” I asked sincerely. “I didn’t think you’d been injured in the fight; I didn’t feel anything.”
But, on the other hand, I was so debilitated that feeling the pain from his wound would be kind of impossible.
“Nor was I,” he affirmed.
I was surprised when an involuntary sigh of relief escaped me.
I threw the ground beef into the pan, beginning dinner. I chopped the tomatoes and onion for the sauce and started to peel the cabbage leaves, preparing everything to assemble his favorite dish. It was a way to thank him for, once again, saving my life.
Edric stared at the forest beyond the window, lost in thought. His eyes were glazed and he barely blinked.
I shouldn’t invade his privacy, but I couldn’t contain my curiosity. I concentrated, clinging to the invisible thread that guided and bound us, to discover what he felt.
Anguish. Guilt. Confusion. Rage.
Edric was drowning in a mix of feelings that left me stunned. I stepped back, focusing on the dinner I was preparing.
He grabbed the half-full whiskey bottle from the coffee table and filled his glass again before leaning back on the sofa and returning to his initial position.
“It’s been a very, very long time since I felt like this,” he confessed in a whisper.
For a moment I thought he was talking to himself or thinking out loud. I lifted my eyes to him and found his troubled blue irises fixed on me.
“Like what?” I asked, pouring the chopped tomatoes into a pan and mixing them with the onion.
He brought the glass to his lips, taking another sip of liquor.
“Desperate.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I felt your pain, I knew you were in danger. It wasn’t like before, it was worse. I felt the weakness, death drawing near. I felt absolutely everything.”
I exhaled an exasperated sigh.
“I’m sorry, but it’ll always be like that, at least while Alessio is alive. Your life is in dan—”
“That’s not what I meant,” he cut in, somewhat brusque. I blinked, confused. “Yes, I feared for myself and for my pack. But, above all, I feared for your life.”
I opened and closed my mouth, astonished.
“How so?”
He shook his head and rubbed his hand through his hair, looking frustrated.
“I haven’t felt this way since…” his voice faltered, “since Catalina,” he revealed.
It was the first time he had spoken her name aloud in front of me. All I knew about the she-wolf were the rumors and gossip told by her close friends.
I bit my cheeks, trying to hold my tongue and not ask questions that didn’t concern me. I managed to stay quiet for five seconds before mustering the courage to broach the subject that, until then, had been strictly forbidden.
“What happened to her?” I heard myself ask, my voice rising above the loud beating of my heart.
I waited for his attack. I stayed silent, expecting some gratuitous humiliation, any sudden burst of anger, but he did nothing.
“She was killed,” he spat, in a bitter tone.
I already knew that, but I wanted the whole context of the story, everything that had happened.
“By whom?” I pressed, feigning disinterest.
I stirred the ground beef in the pan as if my life depended on it, totally distracted. It was already done, but I couldn’t stop. I needed something to focus on to avoid looking at him.
“By a male. An alpha who became obsessed with her.”
I frowned and finally lifted my face to stare at him. He scrutinized me closely, following each of my movements, alert.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I hissed.