Chapter 397: Feed
But even though she spoke, Zyren didn’t move and continued to lie in the same exact spot he had first laid in.
He didn’t even turn his gaze to the side to look at her. Aira, on the other hand, slowly grew incensed at not being able to get a reaction from him.
"First you lock me here with you and now you won’t even speak?" she snapped at him, only to be more stunned by the response she got when he instantly answered this time around.
"...Why should I talk to someone that doesn’t want to be alive? I figured you might want to get used to the silence, seeing as that’s what you prefer!"
His words made Aira’s mouth fall open in shock as she scrambled off the floor and moved toward the bed where he lay.
She was stunned by how much he had said—so much so that she couldn’t help but wonder if the silence also got to him and he was simply better at hiding it.
She stared at the blank look on his face as he continued to gaze up at the ceiling of the cell instead of looking at her.
He said nothing else, making it clear that he didn’t particularly intend to.
Annoyed, she said the only thing she could think of that might get her out of the cell they were both stuck in—although, in her case, unwillingly.
"I need to pee!" she said.
A scoff answered her as Zyren slowly shook his head before finally turning to look at her, an almost cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Vampires don’t need to pee," he told her directly.
Aira’s eyes widened in shock and appallment as she fixed her gaze on him.
"What do you do then?" she asked, never having considered it before. She stared at him, realizing that she had never actually seen Zyren go to the toilet. Ever.
"We throw up," he said with such a serious expression that Aira didn’t once consider that he could be joking, even as she desperately hoped that he was.
But Zyren had already turned his face away, back to the ceiling, which suddenly seemed far more interesting than her.
The more he ignored her, the more annoyed she became.
"I’m hungry," she said next, which was, in fact, something she had been trying to hold in.
She was stunned to see Zyren’s gaze jerk toward her almost like he had been pulled.
Instantly, he sat up and beckoned her closer while turning his neck to the side, giving her clear access to bite him.
But Aira immediately took a step back, a deep frown settling on her face.
"Real food! I know vampires can eat food coated in blood. I’ve seen it!"
"Yes, but that’s for century-old vampires, not newly turned fledglings like you," he responded.
But Aira still shook her head, making it clear that she had no intention of biting him.
"I’ll take my chances," she replied.
She was taken aback when, instead of arguing with her, Zyren simply turned and strode to the door of the cell, whistling sharply.
Footsteps sounded almost immediately as a guard approached. Zyren gave instructions through the bars, ordering that food be brought—vampire food, to be precise. It needed to be thoroughly soaked and cooked in fresh blood.
Aira didn’t speak. She simply waited, surprised when, instead of returning to the bed and lying down like before, Zyren chose to remain beside her.
She refused to look at him, focusing instead on everything but the solid presence at her side. It didn’t help that simply standing that close was enough to make her want to grab him and lean into him.
He smelled amazing in a way that made it hard to know if she wanted his blood or his body.
It didn’t take the guard long to return with a tray, properly covered and prepared. There was a small latch that could be opened without unlocking the cell door, which he used to slide the tray inside.
Aira didn’t wait for Zyren to take it. She grabbed it herself and headed straight for the bed, sitting down and uncovering the food while deliberately ignoring the intensity of his gaze.
But the moment she lifted the cover, a wave of nausea hit her so suddenly that she quickly covered it again. She carried the tray to the small table and set it down before putting distance between herself and the smell.
Her face twisted in disgust.
"You’re newly turned. Blood and mostly raw meat will disgust you," Zyren said as he stepped closer. His voice softened slightly as he made his offer. "You can feed from—"
But Aira didn’t let him finish.
She knew exactly what he was going to say.
And she also knew the consequences of feeding from him in such an enclosed space. Their kind didn’t separate feeding from physical desire. It would lead to sex—and she would be lucky if, by some miracle, it only happened once. Something she knew wouldn’t be the case.
Ignoring him, she climbed onto the bed and lay down, turning to face the wall, determined to wait it out.
"I’m not feeding from you," she told him, irritation sharp in her tone.
Silence settled between them again.
Zyren moved to the chair and leaned back in it, his posture relaxed but his presence still heavy in the small cell. Aira remained on the bed, rigid and stubborn.
Time passed slowly. Painfully slowly.
At first, she focused on ignoring the hunger, telling herself she could endure it. But as the hours dragged on, her control began to weaken. The thirst sharpened, clawing at her throat, tightening her chest, clouding her thoughts.
Eventually, she realized she wasn’t winning.
Slowly, reluctantly, she spoke.
"...Do you promise not to sleep with me if I feed from you?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.
She wasn’t surprised to find his red eyes already fixed on her, as if he hadn’t been looking at anything else the entire time.
For a moment, he didn’t respond.
She thought he wouldn’t. She began to turn back toward the wall when his voice cut through the silence.
"If you feed from me," he said slowly, his tone low and deliberate, "I will sleep with you as many times as it pleases me."
He didn’t try to hide anything—not the hunger, not the desire, not the promise behind his words.
He made it known.
And for some reason, Aira realized that, as a vampire, she could feel it—that he was making a conscious effort to ensure she understood exactly how much he meant it.
The air between them seemed to thicken, heavy with tension neither of them chose to break.
