Tasting Drakness

Chapter 7

I didn’t know what time it was when the door opened again, but I cringed when it did. Fear coursed through me, making my eyes dart to it. Worried, Darius has returned to inflict more injury on me. My leg needed to be set back into place, and I needed a doctor. Without my mates, I have no way of fixing it myself with one hand, and I doubt I could, anyway. My pain threshold wasn’t the best.

Relief floods me when I realize it isn’t him. It was my usual morning visitor. He walks in, and I watch him as he tosses the water bottle through the bars. It falls at my feet and bumps my foot. I didn’t even feel it, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing because I wasn’t in pain or a bad thing.

“Aleera, please just-” He stops, his eyes going to the odd angle of my leg and my blood that has frozen on the floor beneath it. His eyes moved to mine before going to the hand still held to my chest. I knew how gross it looked; my fingers were swollen and black, and they still hurt; however, my leg was numb, and I prayed it didn’t mean something terrible.

“Darius did that?” he questions, and I just look away from him. He appeared shocked. Why he thought better of him was beyond me? All the rumors of his cruelty turned out to be accurate, and to think, I tried to convince myself over the years that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad..

Perhaps I could get past him killing my parents. Thankfully, I never gave in to the hopelessness that comes from living out there and surviving. If I had, I would have been here over four days, and if this is four days brings me, just what am I truly in store for, and could I survive it.

The door swings open and bangs on the bars, and I look over at the man. He curses but hesitates for a second before walking over to me with his eyes trained on me like he thought I would do something. He glanced at the door behind him, and I watched as he kneeled beside me. He rolled my pant leg up. His eyes dart to me like he was expecting me to cry out at the movement of my leg, but I feel nothing when I see his hands move towards my leg where the bone poked out of my skin.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“I can’t leave you like this,” He says; he almost looked guilty like he did this to me.

“Why do you care?” I mutter, looking away from him.

“Because you don’t just belong to him,” He says, and my head whips back to look at him.

I am?” He asks before I feel his hands

doesn’t take his eyes off my leg when I hear it crack as

noticed was wide open. He looks back at me when no one comes down before removing his hand, I try

are in the mess hall,” he says while examining

hand comes in contact as h e feels my leg, searching for something. I have no idea, but it bloody hurt as he prodded before reaching for my

bites into his wrist before offering it to me. I just stared at him. When a thought hits me, I could siphon his magic and knock him out before he even notices; this was my chance to

like he thought I couldn’t tell what he was. I was glad I had no magic right now because, with my pain, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it contained to shield him from what I was. I needed them to believe I was

what you are,” I

you sure because you didn’t recognize me or feel I was your mate?” he

felt it when you touched

magic left, or I would sense it, we all would nevertheless I still would have thought you would have had some inkling about who I am to you” he sounded almost upset I didn’t recognize him or maybe

not like I see your face splashed

to feel sorry for you because I don’t,” He says, his eyes darkening back to their

exist? Was I in a dungeon of sorts? That explained the weird-ass shackles on the walls. I thought maybe they were some twisted Halloween decoration, or perhaps they were into BDSM, but now I was looking at them differently. I wondered briefly how

and I turn my gaze to his wrist that closes up before my eyes. His eyes turn silver again, his canines sinking into his wrist. He tears the flesh away, which made me pull á face when he doesn’t even flinch, oh how I wish

I didn’t want to hurt him. The pull to his power and him now I recognized him was growing stronger-stupid mate bond. And couldn’t the fates have made them as ugly as their shitty personalities? Seriously

wasn’t healing me because he wanted to, but because he felt guilty. Anger courses through me, and he looks away as I press my lips to his wrist, letting his blood flow into my

with both hands and pulling, no that was the wrong word for it. It’s like turning on a vacuum, and I