His lips pressed against my neck, my jaw, my cheek, each blood-curdling word coming out of his lips dripping with spite and the intent to make me feel that he had power over me.
“But don’t worry, my fragile little twig. I’ve had my fill for the night. I just wanted to warn you about what’s ahead of you, remind you who found you…and who really owns you.”
Still keeping his hand over my mouth, Lucas lifted himself up on the bed, so that he was kneeling over me, straddling my hips as he looked down at me, a manic smile on his face.
“Don’t get too comfortable with my brother, Sofia, because no matter what he may think, you’re mine. And should you get any bright ideas about telling Derek about this little rendezvous of ours, consider this a stern warning.”
He used his free hand to retrieve something from his jacket’s pocket. It was a lock of brown hair. My eyes grew wide with horror imagining what the object implied. He began tracing the ends of the strands of hair over my jaw line.
“I have a gift waiting for you at the bathroom. Before you scream for help, I suggest you check it out… unless of course you want more of my gifts waiting for you.”
With that, he left, leaving the lock of hair behind. Trembling, I grabbed the item and got off the bed. I slowly walked toward the bathroom, dreading to find out what gift he could possibly think of giving me. There were no words to describe what I felt when I opened the bathroom door and found Gwen’s lifeless body there. The sensations and emotions that rushed through me at that moment were more than I could handle. My throat felt so dry, I couldn’t even scream. I just retreated to a corner, terrified, realizing that no matter how beautiful the Blood Shade was on the outside, it was only a mask to hide its darkness. I’d fooled myself into believing that I was safe, but that was the biggest lie I’d told myself in years.
Chapter 18: Derek
“She’s wounded,” was the first thing Corrine said when I barged inside the doors of the Sanctuary, Sofia still in my arms.
I wondered what she was talking about as I followed Corrine to one of the Sanctuary’s chambers. I walked toward the bed in the middle of the room and laid Sofia there. My stomach turned when I saw how bloody one of my hands were. Her blood. My craving for her should’ve consumed me – it was in my nature to want to taste her – but my desire to make things right with her overpowered every other lustful craving.
“What happened to her?” Corrine asked.
I ignored the witch and flipped Sofia’s motionless body over so that she was lying face down on the bed. She made no attempts to stop me when I began ripping the back of her dress open. The sight of her back was revolting to look at. Vampire claws ran the length of her back with deep cuts. I wondered to myself how someone as fragile as her could sustain such a wound without complaining about the pain.
“Who did this to you, Sofia? Who killed Gwen?!”
She didn’t respond. She just buried her face in the pillow, sobbing frantically. I drew the dagger out of my sleeve and without a moment’s hesitation made a deep, long cut over my palm. I grabbed Sofia’s arm and with my agitation and the sense of urgency I felt, I yanked her to an upright, sitting position. She gasped in pain at the sudden motion.
“Derek…” Vivienne spoke from behind me. “She’s already in enough pain.”
I wasn’t even aware that my sister had followed us all the way there.
“There’s no time. She needs to heal fast. We don’t know how much blood she’s already lost.”
I was inwardly chastising myself for not having noticed while still back in her bedroom that she was hurt. I pressed my palm over Sofia’s mouth, my other hand positioned at the back of her neck.
“Drink,” I ordered.
I was relieved that she didn’t put up a fight and simply relented. Perhaps she just wanted the pain to stop and knew well enough that my blood in her system would exceedingly speed up the healing process. I didn’t care. As long as I felt her sucking on the blood from my palm, I was satisfied. It did little to ease the fury I felt inside, but it did wonders for the worry I felt over her predicament.
Relief washed over me when the cuts on her back began to heal. She must’ve felt it, because she stopped drinking from my palm. I was so distraught over what happened to her under my watch that I wanted her to keep drinking as if my blood could fix everything for her. The gash on my palm closed however, and I watched her wipe the blood from her face with her arm. I wanted to see the light in her eyes flicker back on, any indication that the fire within her hadn’t died out, but the blank stare of her green eyes told me otherwise as she listlessly laid her head back on the pillow.