Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
“We can’t risk you going into another stasis, Sera. You may not wake up,” he said, sensing my hesitation. “I will leave immediately afterward. You don’t have to worry about how my blood will affect you.”
“It’s not that.”
A look of doubt crept into Nyktos’s features as I lifted a strangely weak arm and touched the hand that rested on the floor beside my hip. The charge of energy was faint. “Your skin is icy. As cold as it was before.” The why suddenly occurred to me, and my chest twisted. “It was…her feeding from you, wasn’t it? That’s why your skin is so cold.”
His features tensed. “I told you why my skin is cold. I’m Death.”
He had told me that, but that hadn’t really made that much sense to me.
Nyktos stared at me for a moment. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, and I thought it did. “I’ll be okay. You, however, may not be.”
I sighed, knowing it wasn’t wise to argue over this. I didn’t want to slip into another several-days-long sleep that I might not wake up from. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Nyktos raised a brow but wisely didn’t respond to that. He shifted closer, sitting on the floor beside me. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him as he lifted his wrist to his mouth. I caught only a brief glimpse of his fangs before they sank deep into his flesh. I winced, just like I had before. He lifted his mouth, revealing the seeping puncture wounds. Shimmery, bluish-red blood pooled in two perfect circles, and his scent, that citrus and fresh air, was more potent.
Neither of us spoke as he brought his wrist to my mouth, but I didn’t hesitate like I had before. It almost felt natural as I lowered my head. And maybe that was the embers. But perhaps it was me.
Closing my mouth over the wound, I drew on his bite as my eyes drifted shut. The first taste of him was a shock to my senses. A jolt to my entire body that would likely never dull, no matter how many times I tasted him.
A tingling sensation swept over my tongue and the insides of my mouth, then moved to my throat as I swallowed. It struck me as odd that his blood could be so warm, yet his skin so cold, but the memories of how he’d tasted hadn’t done him any justice. Sweet and smoky honey. Luscious. Captivating. I swallowed, more and more, marveling at the heady warmth coursing into my chest and stomach, easing the aches along the way.
“Just a bit more,” Nyktos said, his voice lower, thicker.
I drank deeper, only vaguely aware that I was holding his arm and that my fingers were curling tightly around his. I thought that I probably shouldn’t do that now, but that thought was just a flicker. An inconvenience. The hum of his blood coasted over that hollow part of me, snuffing out the pain in my ribs and my stomach, taking with it a deeper, more entrenched hurt that went beyond the physical.
Then I found it.
Felt it.
Peace.
It was like slipping beneath still waters, surrounded by silence and peace. But in that cool darkness were colors. They came alive with a spark of silver and black, and like the images that had formed in the Pools of Divanash, one rose in my mind. It was me. I was standing in the courtyard of the House of Haides in a black gown with the gray, star-swept sky behind me. Cheeks flushed and eyes a feverish wild green, I held a short sword, the shadowstone blade glittering as a pale, silver curl danced across my cheek, touching the corner of my lip as I grinned up at—
This was a memory of me, but not my memory.
“I think that’s enough,” Nyktos grunted, shattering the memory as he gently pried his wrist from my grip.
My eyes fluttered open as my hands fell to my lap. Beside me, Nyktos sat, one leg bent as he lifted his wrist to his mouth, sealing the wound he’d created. There were no shadows beneath his flesh now, but his skin was even thinner, the hollows of his cheeks more prominent, and his flesh paler.
“How are you feeling?” Nyktos asked.
I took stock of myself, somewhat dazed. “Better,” I exhaled, long and slow without even a hint of pain. Considering what I could do with my hands, the healing ability of a Primal’s blood shouldn’t shock me, but it did. “Thank you.”
Nyktos nodded, and his lashes swept down, hiding his eyes as he started to rise. “I’ll await you in my chambers—”
“Wait,” I stopped him. His jaw flexed. “I saw myself standing in the courtyard when I held the sword to your throat,” I told him, my skin beginning to thrum as the warmth of his blood continued working its way through my muscles. “Why would I think of that?”