The blood smelled like honey and milk. It was warm and wet, trickling freely down the bare neck of the sleeping human beneath me. I bowed closer to the wound and stuck out my tongue as my fangs elongated.

Just one bite…

I retreated with a grunt.

“Riley, please!” Sirus implored.

I turned to where his voice was coming from. It was enough to break me from my daze, and I realize how close I had gotten to the body. “I can't and I won't!” My voice held an edge of panic and desperation. “Please.”

It took every ounce of self-control I could manage, but I turned on my heel and marched from the room, disregarding the booming voice calling for me to return. It was maddening to be surrounded by the pressure to feed. As much as I wanted to satiate my thirst, I wanted to do it as morally sound as possible. My resistance to feeding only made the hunger hurt that much more, drowning me in a blistering headache that made me hear voices.

The voices grew louder as I sprinted down the hall and sped down the steps, taking them by two's in order to reach my room faster. A few more steps would lead me to the comfort of my bed where I could curl up and cry into my silky pillows. The crimson shifted as I ran, bursting into rays of light that illuminated my path.

Was I going mad?

I reached out for the door knob and collided with the wood, crashing into my room while tripping over my skirts. I hit the carpet with a grunt and sobbed loudly. It didn't matter if anyone could hear me. I didn't care.

“Riley?” asked a masculine voice.

I shifted my gaze. Adrian stood hesitantly in the doorway with his eyebrows knitted firmly together. He looked vexed. I shifted my gaze back to the carpet and rested my wet face on the ground.

“Leave me,” I groaned.

“No, I can't do that,” he insisted.

“Leave me for death. I am no fang,” I heaved.

“That is not true,” he whispered while shutting the door. “Please, let's get you off the ground. You look like a worried mess.”

“I am a mess,” I claimed. “I can't even keep myself alive. I'm horrible.”

Adrian shook his head. He gently cupped my shoulders and lifted me seamlessly from the ground, laying me out on the bed like he had the first night we had met. He cuddled up next to me and looped his arm around my waist.

“Why do you resist so heatedly?” he asked.

“I can't bear the thought of taking a life. I don't care that Sirus put him to sleep or that he can't feel pain—those aren't the only things preventing me from eating,” I replied tearfully.

He went silent for a moment while playing with the little red patch on my belt, looping it around his masculine fingers.

“Is it more than you would be stepping away from your humanity?” he inquired quietly.

My brows furrowed together as a knot formed in my throat, my lips trembling as I nodded silently. He hugged me tight.

“There is nothing wrong with letting go, Riley,” he whispered faintly. “We have all stepped away from our humanity. Every one of us has faced the trench and taken the leap. None of us are strangers to that ghastly jump. Not even me.”

“But I can't,” I whimpered.

“Yes, you can. And you will. I believe that a few days from now, you will be overwhelmed with determination. You will forget all about your worries, and you will take the first bite,” he posited. “It will be such a glorious night.”

I sighed deeply and turned to shove my face into his neck. Patchouli instantly filled my nostrils. It eased my troubled mind and put me into a peaceful state, coaxing me down from the anxious pedestal upon which I stood. I smiled.

“I can't believe you have this effect on me,” I said.

“I suppose it's not something we should ignore,” he expressed with a grin.

“And how should we honor that, I wonder?” I asked rhetorically.

Smirking, he leaned in to my pale lips and took them. His hand that had been draped over my waist deliberately made its way over my hip and to my belt. He unfastened it quickly, tossing it over his shoulder while he positioned himself between my legs. I looked up at his hungry eyes, falling easily into the oceanic blue.

“Will you take me?” I begged.

“Absolutely,” he whispered huskily.

“Will it make the pain go away?”

A sorrowful gaze filled his eyes and he bowed down to kiss me again, silencing me from speaking further. His kiss was divine.

My headache worsened as we made love. It distracted me from enjoying his body as I so desperately wanted to, and when it go so unbearable I could hardly stand it, I pushed him away.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“My head,” I groaned.

He gently took my face between his hands and examined my eyes, his thumbs running over my aching temples.

“You're fading,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

“What?” I repeated.

Again, no sound. The world grew dark. I slipped back into the pillows and faded into unconsciousness, slipping easily into the black void.