My heart raced, fear like I’d never known filling me. “Don’t move.”
She hissed and lay still, her cheek pressed to the stone, her skin pale. Red blood coated the ends of her hair.
I grabbed her bag and dug around, searching for a healing draft. They all looked the same, though. I didn’t understand Eve’s labeling system the way Carrow did.
I raised my wrist to my mouth and bit deep, my fangs piercing the skin. Quickly, I held my wrist under her mouth, cradling her head so that her lips pressed to my skin. “Drink. It will heal you.”
I hoped. My blood might be worthless by now, all healing ability gone. But it was worth trying. “Please, Carrow. You must.”
It took her a moment, but finally, she did as I commanded. She drew on my wrist, my blood flowing into her. Pleasure shot through me, so inappropriate given the circumstances but impossible not to feel.
It was like the sensation unlocked something inside me, and suddenly, I could smell her blood.
There was so much of it, and the beast inside me roared. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and my fangs hurt in my mouth. My throat felt parched, and the creature inside me struggled to break free. To fall on Carrow and drink her blood.
No.
I fought it with everything I had, clenching my jaw and turning my head from her. I stopped breathing entirely, letting my lungs burn and my heart pound.
This will pass.
It had to pass.
Slowly, it faded. My head swam. I drew in a shallow breath through my mouth, desperate for air.
I resisted.
The last thing I needed was for the beast to return.
Finally, Carrow withdrew her mouth. She moaned and pushed herself upright. I turned to her, clenching my fists, knowing I couldn’t touch her.
More than anything, I wanted to help her up.
But I couldn’t risk it. While she was covered in blood, the beast was too close to the surface.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “How do you feel?”
She rubbed a hand over her pale face. “Like hell.” Her gaze met mine. “And I’m not sure that worked very well.”
Damn it. As I’d feared.
She rose to her knees and turned. Her coat was torn, revealing wounds that gouged the skin of her
back, slowly seeping blood. If they’d healed, it hadn’t been by much.
“My blood is no longer as effective,” I said, concern piercing me. Grief that I could not heal her. “Mortality is creeping up on me. Do you have a healing potion?”
“Yes. And at least now I’m strong enough to find it.” She dug into her satchel and removed two small vials. She handed me one. “Here. For your wounds.”
I took it, hating that I couldn’t heal her. As I drank it down, I felt my wounds heal. I loathed that I could no longer do that on my own, loathed even more that I couldn’t heal her.
Quickly, she uncorked the vial and drank.
I stood and stepped backward, my hands clenched into fists as I tried to force my fangs to recede.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “You look…off.”
I nodded sharply. “Fine. But keep your distance. I…can’t be trusted right now.”