Page 27 of The Last Guardian

“Is that all?” Haedeon pressed; his bony fingers played with the chains around his gray robe.

The mark… It burned my skin, a reminder not to leave this room without an answer. The air thickened, pressing in if something were feeding on life itself.

“Not exactly,” I said, trying to calm the anger pulsing in my veins, the urge to run far away from him. I swallowed hard and added, “For more than a week, I have had a strange mark on my wrist. I tried a potion, but it didn’t help.”

I rolled my sleeve up, and Haedeon’s eyes glimmered as he assessed the mark. Something crossed his expression. Like he knew what it was. At least, one little victory.

Haedeon stood from his seat, approaching me with steady steps. “May I?” he urged with a gesture to take my wrist.

With a nod, I rose to my feet and drew nearer. Haedeon’s icy fingers gently caressed the six bloated lines; his skin on mine felt like he was sucking the life from my body.

Hells, I wanted an answer, but I didn’t like that.

“This is… interesting,” Haedeon whispered, his eyes glowing as he traced the path beneath my skin.

“What is it?”

“It’s—” Haedeon murmured, his lips curling into a sinister smile. His nostrils flared, “Like…”

He paused, his eyes fixed on mine before returning to my wrist. His face leaned against my hand.

“Your blood calls to me,” he whispered, his breath rotting on my skin.

Before I knew it, his icy hands had curled around my wrist, tightened. Confusion crossed his face again, followed by a flash of restraint. He stared at me, silent.

The air stilled.

Haedeon lunged at me at full speed, and my body slammed against the wall across the room—near the hearth. My head hit the stone so hard that dizziness overtook me.

Not again.

I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

He pinned me as I struggled against his wiry frame, his hideous nails, long and sharp as daggers, pierced the tender flesh of my wrist, where the mark was.

Blood left my body in a burning rush; it was like a fire beneath my skin. But the pain wasn’t limited to my wrist; it rose in my ribs. It was everywhere.

It felt like his nails sucked out my blood. His horrible gaze stared at me. A glimmer of hunger flashed across his irises, grazing the skin of my neck.

No.

“Your blood sings to me,” Haedeon whispered as he nipped his teeth at my throat, scenting my skin with slow, hungry breaths. “Delicious.”

No, no.

No.

“It wants me to drink it. Oh, yes, just a drop of your sweet blood.”

I wanted to scream, but my voice—no sound came out.

Haedeon bent down, inhaling deeply at my neck, focusing on the pulsating vein beneath the surface. His muzzle caressed it. Once. Twice.

“Just a little.”

And his teeth sank into my neck. A cry of agony escaped my mouth. I heard my own scream reverberating in my skull, resonating in my ears, shivering through my body.

Haedeon covered my mouth with his hand, muffling the cry.