Chapter 71 CHAPTER 71
Chapter 71 CHAPTER 71
I woke to the dry scrape of thirst along the back of my throat and a hollow ache low in my stomach that pulsed with every slow beat of my heart.
A rumble that can’t be filled by food.
Beside me the mattress dipped under Alex’s weight. His breathing came steady and heavy, each exhale ending in a soft, rough snore that filled the quiet space between us.
I lay still for several long seconds, tongue pressed to the roof of my mouth. The taste of metal lingered there.
My pulse ticked against the thin skin of my wrists. Hunger sat under my ribs like a second heartbeat, sharper than any ordinary emptiness.
My thoughts travelled to earlier in the day when Angel had stood only an arm’s length away in the kitchen, her voice thick with worry.
I had heard the blood moving through her quick, warm, a soft rushing sound that seemed to travel straight into my own veins. Something that I have never experienced before.
The scent of it had risen from her skin, copper-sweet, and saliva had flooded my mouth before I could stop it.
The memory of that moment still clung to the inside of my nose.
I did not understand why my body answered that way. The thought of my father’s vampire blood surfaced once, a brief flicker, then I pushed it aside.
The explanation felt too wrong and too distant from the changes that I am now experiencing in my body.
Why is it happening now? When will it end, my mind is full of questions that no one can answer not even my own mother who usually has so many answers.
I eased out from under the sheet And crossed the room by memory and the faint wash of moonlight, one hand brushing the wall. The hallway stretched ahead, darker than it has ever been.
Every sound seemed louder than it should be, the faint creak of wood, the distant tick of the clock in the living room.
I reached the open archway and stopped. The air here carried a different weight.
It moved against my skin in a slow, deliberate current, warmer than the rest of the house, carrying the faint scent of damp earth. Someone is in the room with me.
I could not see the shape, only the shift of atmosphere and the almost imperceptible sound of breath that did not belong to unanimated object.
“Who’s there?”
My voice came out thin, no answer followed. The breathing continued slow, measured, close enough that I felt the faint displacement of air against my left cheek.
My own breath shortened. The silver film across my eyes turned the darkness into a flat, featureless grey; shapes refused to form.
The lack of clear sight left the space too wide and too narrow at once. My fingers curled against the doorframe. The pulse in my throat went up a beat.
“Alex.”
The name left me louder than I intended.
Alex’s distant snore did not falter. I’m going to be murdered while my fiance is sleeping in the other room.
A man’s voice spoke from the darker side of the room, low and smooth, as if it had been waiting for me to walk in.
“He won’t hear you. He is in deep slumber, dreaming about your wedding day. If you do make it in time.” I fought the urge to whimp.
My tongue pressed flat against my teeth. The voice belonged to the hollow man. Recognition settled cold along my spine.
My shoulders drew tight, I drew in a breath. The hunger that had woken me twisted once, sharp and useless.
Soft footsteps crossed the rug. The air shifted again. I felt fingertips, cool and dry, traced a light path along the side of my face, from temple to jaw.
The touch was almost careful. He is touching my face, why.
“The colour silver on your eyes makes you more beautiful,” he said. “I love this for you.” The fingers paused near the corner of my eye. “The fangs are phenomenal. You can cut off any blood circulation with just one small bite.”
A shudder ran across my shoulders before I could hold it. The same fangs I felt painfully grow earlier and Alex couldn’t tell
me the truth.
His scent filled the space between us earth after rain, metallic like iron left too long in water. My pulse hammered hard enough that I felt it in the tips of my fingers.
The points of my new teeth pressed against the inside of my lip. I could not tell whether the room had grown colder or whether the cold came from his nearness.
He was here to finish what he had started in my room. My hands stayed open at my sides, balled into fists.
“What do you want from me?”
The question left my mouth smaller than I meant it to. My throat felt tight. Each word scraped.
I kept my face turned toward the sound of his breathing even though the silver across my vision gave me nothing solid to fixate on.
My voice came again, lower, softened by the hope that something in it might reach whatever part of him still answered to pleading words.
“Please. If there is any part of you that understands what it is to want an end to the chase, then tell me what will make you stop. Tell me what you came for tonight,“
The hollow man’s breathing continued, steady and unhurried. His fingers left my face, but the cool trail they had left remained.
From where I was standing I could still hear the sound from down the hall Alex’s snore rose and fell without change.
Silence upon us, my own pulse filled my ears, loud and fast.
The hunger that had woken me stirred once more, drawn by the living heat of the man standing only a step away from me.
I forced it down again with a slow, careful exhale that did nothing to steady the tremor still running through my hands.
He did not move, the air still carried his scent.