The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book Three
The apocalypse looms ever closer! Steamy romance, heart-stopping action, seductive vampires, magic that defies nature, sprinkles of dark-humor, and, as always, the everlasting bonds of friendship.
Hannah's strug...
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"Kill me."
He sounded hoarse after not talking for days. The only reply in the dark room was the hum of the oscillating fan on the dresser near the door, blowing cool air around the room, and the soft purring of the furry form that snuggled close to his chest.
He wasn't sure how to deal with animals of the furry variety. The last thing he wanted was to be clawed. But he thought Micio and he were getting along well.
They were probably soulmates, actually.
He had never felt this close of a connection to anyone. He had let Micio inside after the cat had scratched at the window above his bed. Micio must have balanced on the porch railing and jumped onto the sill.
He had decided to give all his love to Micio. It was so much easier. No more Rowan, with her kissable lips and beautiful laugh. No more Lucas, with his overwhelming presence and rough touch. No more Kenneth confusing his mind into a muddled mess.
He shifted away from Micio to lie on his stomach. He didn't chase the friction of the mattress. That would be totally counterproductive. It would thwart what he was trying to attain by locking himself in here.
He was just trying to get comfortable, and it took a pillow between his legs and a few thrusts of his hips to get there.
He was going insane. On top of the emotional anguish that made getting out of bed a distant dream, he was impossibly horny. He'd been like this ever since their bond broke. He knew the moment it did and died right alongside Kenneth.
Kiernan held him for hours while he sobbed. He'd been half-mad from the mental pain of the bond's absence and half from the fear that Kenneth was truly dead.
Then Kenneth's pulse returned.
Reid had gone mad for a whole other reason. Their bond was broken. Kenneth was free of him. Reid should have been happy that they wouldn't suffer its effects any longer. But, in truth, he was shaking at the thought. He wanted to march out of the bedroom and force Kenneth to retake his blood. He'd give the man an extended life. They would be together forever.
He didn't have the urge to chase Kenneth's blood like he did. But he still yearned for it, dreamed about it. But in retrospect, that could have been because he hadn't had any blood. Not since he drained Kenneth to death days earlier.
He had decided to stay in that bed and slowly starve. He couldn't face people like this. He couldn't control his thoughts, his body, or the voices. They sang twisted musings that only seemed to grow louder every day. He was a liability and a risk to everyone he loved.
He wouldn't consciously allow the dark whispers to take over. But unconsciously, he had never been great at controlling his impulses.
During his wallowing, he had heard Kenneth and Hannah reuniting. The beige wallpapered walls of this bedroom weren't thin. But he could pick up muffled conversations if he focused.
