Chapter 1
The hunger is instant. Ruthless. Overwhelming.
It crashes through me, a force of pure, primal need, obliterating all other thoughts, all other sensations. My throat is raw, aching, as if I’ve been screaming for hours. My stomach is a void, a black hole demanding to be filled.
My eyelids snap open.
The world is crystal clear, every detail so sharp it almost hurts. The air hums, vibrating against my skin, and I can hear someone breathing. No, two people. Both heartbeats are fast, scared.
I push up and?—
It’s like my body isn’t mine because everything feels… different.
My balance is perfect, my limbs strong, precise, but there’s something foreign about them—like I haven’t quite settled into my own skin.
What the hell? Why do I feel like this?
My eyes shift when I notice something red on the floor.
That’s blood.
There’s a smear of it leading up to this table. There are droplets of it leading back to the door. There’s tons of it coating the table I’m lying on.
Fuck, it’s everywhere.
The metallic scent coats the back of my throat. It’s on my hands, drying in deep, crusted layers, seeping into my fingernails.
I glance down.
A handful of scattered, bloody teeth lie in the mess.Myteeth, I realize, and a sick shudder rakes through me. My fingers brush over my lips before my tongue cautiously slides over the teeth currently inhabiting my mouth.
Fangs.
Holy shit, those arefangspressing against my tongue.
The hunger tightens in my gut.
“Lana.”
I forgot I wasn’t alone. My eyes rip across the room, and there, I find Florence and Clementine.
Florence takes a step back, away from me, and that move alone sends the warning bells in my brain crazy. Clementine immediately places herself between me and her wife.
“Here, Lana,” Florence says, her voice shaking, and I realize what that is in her eyes: fear. And it’s directed at me. I realize why when she holds something out. The moment I see the familiar sight of a blood bag, my nostrils flare, and lava coats my throat. I lunge forward, only it’s more like I teleported across the space. One second, I was standing beside a metal table in the center of the room, and the next, I’m across the space, ripping the blood bag from Florence’s fingers.
Before I register anything that’s happened, I bite into the plastic casing. Sharpened, elongated teeth sink into it, and a cool, thick liquid gushes into my mouth, staining my lips.
A moan works its way up my throat as I suck. I squeeze too hard, and the bag pops, most of the dark red liquid spilling over my chin and my hands, splashing on the floor.
An annoyed huff comes out of me, sounding feral.
“Lana,” Florence says. My eyes rip up to her, and she’s extending another bag to me, Clementine still placed strategically between us.
I snatch it in the blink of an eye and bite down on the plastic once more. I’m more careful this time, measuring my grip on it, pacing my strength.
I draw from the bag. I suck the cold, metallic liquid down my throat, and I feel every inch of my stomach when the liquid hits. And the moment it does, something in my body… quivers. I feel this surge. It’s like adrenaline and peace and purpose course through my veins, pounding through my heart, filling every bit of my brain.
Another moan leaves my lips as I tilt my head backward, letting the incredible sensation wash over every inch of me.