Damian's Oracle

She shook her head, fear spiraling through her.

"Sofia, what's done can't be undone, even if you want it so."

"You're scaring me."

"I told you I'd never hurt you," he said in a softer tone.

"I'm not feeling reassured right now!" she retorted.

He left the corner and approached her, stopping when she took a step back. He held out his hand.

"C'mere," he said more gently. "I promise not to harm you."

She hung in indecision for a long moment until she recalled that being in his arms was the only place she ever found peace. She placed her hand in his. He tugged her forward until their bodies met. Her blood surged with desire, her breathing quickening. She stared at his chest, afraid again to look up.

"Jilian killed you," he said, wrapping his arms around her in a secure hug.

"He said he was going to drain all my blood out." She leaned into him, at peace yet hyped up on adrenaline and desire.

"And he did. I brought you back."

"How?"

"With my blood. My blood runs through your veins. You need it to live."

"Of course I need blood to live," she said with a nervous laugh.

"It's the deepest bond my … our kind can share and one that Czerno had in store for you."

You must die first.

… an Oracle must be bound …

for all eternity …

"You will never hunger for food nor thirst for water. I think you found out what eating does to you?"

She said nothing, her heart somersaulting.

"It's also a bond that folks in my position have to be careful about taking on, because it leaves me vulnerable. That can be an issue when you don't know how to fight. You make an easy target."

"Yes, I can see that," she agreed. "Are you going to teach me to fight?"

"Maybe. We have to get through this first."

She didn't want to ask but did. "Through what?"

His grip tightened around her, and she resisted the urge to push him away and flee. He pulled the knife from his pocket, flipped it inward, and sliced into the tender flesh of his wrist.

Horror and hunger surged through her. The scent of his blood was more intoxicating than a shitload of vodka on a Friday night. She craved him in a way that nearly crippled her.

"Oh God!" she whispered raggedly. "No! No, no, no!"

"You have no choice," he said with calmness that terrified her. "You'll die without it."

"Let me go!" She shoved against him as hard as she could, knowing when he released her it was because he wanted to. She tore out of his room, the scent of his blood ensnared in her senses.