Chapter 34: Confessions and Blood

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Scarlett's POV

Previously:

Ashton carefully guided me back into the Palace doors and down the hallways. Humans darted to and fro, not many sparing us a glance. Those who did probably didn't recognize me. I wouldn't have. Taking a deep breath in, I was nearly calmed down by then, when a familiar burning sensation crept into my throat.

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I practically leaped away from Ashton, forcefully pushing him away, for his own safety.

"I have to go!" Without a further explanation, I flashed off in the direction of the kitchen, my throat on fire as more humans swept past me. I needed blood, badly. I couldn't even remember the last time I had fed, and the more I thought about it, the more the fire in my throat burned. Coming to a halt as the dining hall came into view, I hastily wiped at my eyes, praying I didn't look like a madwoman. Thankfully, the kind old chef I had encountered before was there.

He smiled his kind old man smile, his watery blue eyes shining.

I didn't know how he could be so happy.

"May I help you?" he asked politely, and I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Yes. A glass of animal blood please." I tried to ignore my searing throat as he spun away to prepare my drink. It didn't take but a few seconds. I thanked him and sat down. Gritting my teeth, I lifted the glass to my lips. I couldn't focus on being disgusted. I needed to do this or else I would lose control again.

Somehow that was a lot more frightening than drinking the blood of an animal.

I had just taken a small sip when—

"Scarlett?" an amused voice sounded behind me, nearly making me drop my glass. I whipped around, glass safely in hand, and was met with King Harry's familiar figure.

"Harry," I stated, my tongue darting out to swipe over my bottom lip as I tried to catch any excess blood. Harry smirked, coming up to lean against the counter. He jerked his head at the chef, who hastily made him his own glass of what I highly doubted was animal blood. As he raised the glass to his lips, he glanced at me over the rim, giving me this look, as if he were staring into my soul or something. It made goosebumps rise on my skin and heat flush to my cheeks. I had to look away, his eyes were too intense.

"How did the meeting go with Liam?" I asked, trying to alleviate the growing tension.

"Interesting," Harry allowed, still having this all-knowing look on his face. It unnerved me. I chewed on my lips as I gave the chef my practically full glass to clean. Suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore. I debated on telling Harry that I saw the prisoners so I could plead for their release. Glancing up at him through my lashes, I was startled to find him staring at me.

That's it.

"Harry, I need to tell you something," I caved, standing up. The King smirked devilishly, taking one last gulp of his drink before he set it on the counter.

"Shall we speak in my room?" he suggested coolly, and when I nodded, he held out his arm. I took it, my stomach uneasy, my heart in my throat. The walk was made in an uncomfortable silence, each second dragging on agonizingly. After what felt like an eternity, we reached the large oak door that led to Harry's room. I didn't want to tell him, but I knew that he would punish me more if he found out and I didn't come forth beforehand. And it wasn't like I'd done anything that bad; it was perfectly normal for me to want to see people with whom I had once shared a cause. Harry held the door open for me, still with that knowing glint in his eyes. It scared me. All I could think about was the attack. I heard the click of a lock behind me, and I nervously turned around.

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