Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Chapter 82

The home is thick with the smell of blood, making my mouth water as I think about how little I've eaten in the past few days. While humans didn't particularly send me into a frenzy as I'd feared, this man in particular did things to me that weren't appropriate for polite conversation.

 It was only recently I could think beyond my hunger for him sexually, that I could truly begin to appreciate just how much I needed him. The thick scent sent my wolf into a protective mode, I wanted to gut her. How dare she touch what belonged to me? Swallowing back the rush of what might have been venom in a past form, I force my face to remain calm. 

The strigoi stands before me, blood tinging her lips, running down her chin in a messy display as she runs her tongue over her thumb. I envision what she'd look like if she knew what lurked beneath my skin. A monster didn't tend to fear monsters, people of this time hadn't yet experienced what I was.

"You're a grumpy one." She comments, tilting her head. I could snap her neck, but then I would have no help. 

The dark thoughts make me flinch, my pained state was making me short-tempered, a wolf caught in a trap. Outside, I hear the distant crack of thunder, jumping me out of my lock on her throat. 

"Hungry?" she offers her wrist.

Flinching away from her, I attempt not to look too disgusted. Worst comes to worst I could go to Stefan, he was eccentric, and he might believe my story if I thought it out correctly. But... the truth was, my leg wasn't going to last that long nor was my faltering magic. My sense of self was off, it was difficult to tell how much in reserve I actually had.

For two people to point out the state of disrepair, and the unfavorable color the skin was turning, I was beginning to believe that it was possible he had done considerable damage. My pain injection couldn't take away the sharp pangs of disjointed bones if I moved wrong.

"My leg's broken. I feel like I'm speaking to stone, I'm just trying to get home." I point out, irritated. It was a good excuse beyond I didn't like her hands exploring my soul mate.

He was charming, so heartbreakingly charming. The dimpled cheek, the way he moved so smoothly and touched her so gently. Yet, I stopped at his eyes. The swooning ended with the vacancy there, my version was full of sarcasm and life. This man was performing, a world-class actor just trying to get through to his next meal. 

With a sniff, Iris smirks. "That's an interesting scent. You're not a werewolf... Did I hear a growl? What are you?" She was none the wiser of my inner monologue. I had learned a poker face at least, beyond my displeasure, she wouldn't know how close she came to feeling my fangs. The wolf whimpers in the back of my mind, a steady thrum of rain on the roof brings me a sense of grounding. 

For a moment, I feel the tingle in my body of nature calling out once more. The rain brings the glorious scent of freshness, a soft smell that assured me that my magic was not gone. 

"Are you going to help us or not?" It's a dismissal, I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Licking the next finger, she nods. "My payment's been made, I'm just nosey." The pale tongue of the undead woman passes over the digit. "Nothing's better than a werewolf. The blood is cleaner this time around." She almost pouts, looking over her shoulder toward Verando with a grin. "Next time I prefer a tinge of opium please."

Adjusting his shirt, Verando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair awkwardly to avoid making eye contact with me. "Heal him." Surely he was feeling the itch to fall back into old habits already. A drug addict wasn't so easily cured. The fact that he wouldn't look at me reminded me too much of the boy in my youth, of my teachers, ashamed to even make eye contact.