Already the way he’d fed me from his wrist on Friday seemed like a distant dream—something that had happened to some other girl but definitely not me. There was just no way his oath to protect me and provide for me could possibly be real.
And even if it was, he was only doing it out of a sense of obligation and duty. I didn’t want to be a burden, I told myself. I would be fine—the lightheadedness would pass and I would go on with my day. Everything would be all right and—
At that point in my mental pep-talk, I realized I was sliding right out of my chair.
“Oh look—Kaitlyn’s falling!” someone shouted and I saw my teacher’s eyes widen. She looked as though she wanted to catch me—and she might have because Nocturnes—Born Nocturnes, anyway—are incredibly fast and strong. But before she could rush to me, a strong pair of arms had wrapped around me and lifted me up.
It was Ari, of course. He was looking down into my face with a mixture of worry and anger on his chiseled features and I saw flames dancing far back in the depths of his pale amber eyes.
“Well done, Mr. Reyes,” Ms. Eventide remarked dryly. “You do seem to have a talent for catching damsels in distress. Is she all right?”
“I…I’m fine,” I croaked, my hoarse voice not exactly sounding convincing. “Just a little…lightheaded. That’s all.”
“I think I’d better take her to the Healer, Ms. Eventide,” Ari said. “May I be excused?”
“Of course you may. Can Kaitlyn walk?”
Air pulled me closer to his broad chest.
“I think it’s better if I carry her. Safer that way.”
She sighed. “Very well, Mr. Reyes. Go on.”
She waved him out and Ari carried me out of our History of Magic classroom, holding me as easily as though I weighed no more than a feather pillow.
But he didn’t take me to the Healer.
41
Kaitlyn
We turned down a short hallway near the West Tower and Ari stopped in front of a blank stone wall. He spoke a word in a language I didn’t understand—something deep and guttural—and a tall wooden door I had never seen before somehow appeared.
The big Drake kicked it open with his foot and stepped carefully inside, making sure not to bump my legs or head as we went in. He kicked it closed behind us and then went to sit in an oversized brown leather armchair that looked big enough to hold three normal sized people…or maybe just one really big Drake and a small, newly-made Nocturne.
At any rate, Ari settled into the chair comfortably enough and cradled me in his lap. I wanted to protest being treated like a doll or a child, but I found I couldn’t. I was too weak to move, let alone talk. All I could do was lie there and let him do whatever he wanted with me.
I felt his big, warm hand come up to the back of my neck and then he was pressing my mouth to his throat.
“Drink, L’lorna,” he murmured, which was another word I didn’t understand in that strange language of his. “Drink and be healed—drink and be nourished.”
I wanted to do as he asked—wanted it badly. His warm, spicy, masculine scent filled my senses and under it, I could smell the hot blood pumping. My throat burned and my fangs grew long and sharp but at that point I didn’t even have the strength to sink them into his flesh.
“Drink, I said!” Ari sounded worried—almost frightened. He pressed my face to the side of his neck and somehow my new fangs managed to graze the surface of his skin, bringing just a few beads of blood.
Somehow I put out my tongue to lap them up. God, he tasted so good! Warm and perfect and salty and exactly what I needed, his flavor filled my mouth.
Energy seemed to shoot through me—just a tiny tingle of it but enough for me to fully bare my fangs and sink them into the pulsing vein I could sense in the side of his throat.
As my fangs sank deep and I drew my first swallow of blood, Ari gave a choked cry and crushed me to him. Once more I felt the incredible connection between us as I drank from him. Pleasure crackled between us like lightning but that wasn’t the only sensation that made drinking from the big Drake so addictive.
It was the feeling of connection—of closeness I suddenly felt with him.
I had never felt this close to anyone, I admitted to myself as I continued to drink, finally slaking the terrible thirst that had been tormenting me all weekend. Not my Coven-mates, not Allegra, not even my parents when they were still alive.
It was like we were two people, sharing the same skin.
But no, not just two people—there were three, I suddenly realized. And one of us wasn’t human—not even remotely.