Alaric's POV
I woke up with a jolt, a searing hunger gnawing at my insides like a fire I couldn't put out. But it wasn't for food, not for water. It was blood. I was thirsty for blood.
My body ached for it craved it like a drug but the thirst, intense and blinding at first, faltered the moment my eyes landed on Enzo. He stood there pale, wide-eyed, trembling. His face was twisted in something between terror and disbelief. And just like that, the need evaporated, doused by the sheer look on his face.
Fear.
Not the kind he wore when we watched horror movies. Not the kind that flickered in teasing arguments. No, this was pure and unfiltered.
He looked at me like I was a monster.
His voice cracked as he spoke, low and hollow:
"What the hell are you?"
His words sliced through the air like a blade. The tremor in his voice was enough to kill me all over again.
