Ambrosia (Nectar 2)

She turned the knob to open it, it opened inward, but as she turned the knob she heard, “Don’t.” That was Tristan. “Leave it shut.”

“What are you doing?” she called out.

“Leaning against the door.”

“Why?”

“Need to be close to you. As close as I can be without being in the same room.”

Her chest burned with emotion.

“We’re almost over this first hurdle, babe,” she told him.

“I know,” he replied. But he sounded exhausted already.

And how many hurdles were there? First ovulation, then waiting with a sense of impending doom for her period. There was Liam Donavan to deal with, and who knew what hurdle would be next?

She wanted so badly to be in his arms. She wanted to smell him, to taste him, to feel his strong arms around her. She wanted to feed him, feel him inside.

“Go to sleep, okay?” he called out. “Sooner you do, the sooner this day is over. Need anything to eat or drink?”

“Nope.”

“Goodnight.”

“Love you. ‘Night.”

“Love you,” he replied, sounding exhausted.

She heard noise and she suspected he was gone. She got ready for bed. As she worked in her moisturizer she decided that this day hadn’t been great but it seemed a little too easy to get through.

She’d later change her mind about that. And the night following that one would be the longest night of her life so far.

~~~She woke up in pitch black darkness, freezing cold, so she tried to nuzzle deeper into the blankets and in her semi-conscious state, reached for Tristan’s warmth but then she remembered he wasn’t in bed.

As she realized this she was acutely aware of sensations like her body was covered in static so she leaned over to switch the lamp on the bedside table on and that’s when she saw him. Tristan was standing over the edge of the bed.

She held her hand over her eyes to shield against the sudden brightness of the lamplight and when they adjusted enough that she could see him she saw through a squint that he didn’t look so good. He was grey and he was breathing cold fog into the room.

Oh shit. Am I bleeding?

He grabbed his temples and closed his eyes, looking like he was having an internal struggle. Then his fangs shot out.

Oh God.

He was suddenly on her and his skin was suddenly normal, his eyes were normal. He wasn’t cold.

“Baby?” he asked, looking confused, like he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. He gave his head a quick shake and then took a deep breath and then scrambled back off her.

“What the hell?” he asked.

Kyla was about to speak but then she saw the blue in his eyes fade to black again and the grey rushed over his skin like a shadow. His fangs shot back out.

“Oh my God!” she breathed and tried to scamper backwards but he rushed her again and was on her, his hands pinning her shoulders.

The black gave way to blue and the grey faded. Fangs retracted. Tristan was breathing hard, struggling, his mouth contorted, “What the fuck?”

Kyla shook her head frantically, “You have to go! Go!”

He let go of her and ran out of the room, slamming the door.

She got up and ran to the door and twisted the lock but decided instantly that it was an absolutely idiotic thing to do. She lifted her nightie, a short one, light pink, sort of like a very long tank top that hit just above her knees and quickly snapped the elastic of the waistband of her pale blue bikini briefs to see if there was blood in her underwear. There wasn’t. Why was he like this, then? The ovulation peak?

What do I do?

The lock turned back unlocked and the door flew open. Hard. The door bounced off the wall and there he was, in front of her, only about a foot away, billowing cold out of his mouth. His eyes and skin were wrong again.

And then he was on her, his nose on her throat and he advanced, backing her up until she fell on the bed as his teeth sank in. Her fists clenched the sheets and she felt so much fear that she was afraid it’d kill her. His palm went to her shoulder to pin her and it was freezing.

She heard him swallow and felt a foreign sensation inside her, but then the heat returned. Her eyes opened and she couldn’t see his face but could feel him. Not rust or emptiness or cold but warmth flooding her instead, Tristan flooding her instead.

“What the fuck, baby?” he muttered and looked at her.

“You have to go,” she whispered, feeling him get erect against her.

“Yeah, I know, okay,” he kissed her throat and backed off the bed and zoomed out of the room.

She felt throbbing in between her legs. She was suddenly drenched and completely throbbing with need.