Page 239 of Blood Curse

The tiny taste of my own blood flared bright. The wound closed before I could reach it with a finger.

“Those are going to be inconvenient,” I said.

“For a few nights.”

I finished the glass and reached for the jug. Stellan released it to me. This time I judged the weight well enough to pour without breaking anything.

The second glass tasted better. That was either the transformation working or my standards collapsing.

When I lowered it, Stellan watched me with the stillness he used when emotion was threatening to show everywhere.

“How long?” I asked.

“Your heart stopped eleven hours ago.”

“You stayed awake.”

“Yes.”

His answer didn’t pretend the night was easier than it was. I set the glass aside and leaned into him carefully. He gathered me against his chest, one hand spreading over the place where my heartbeat used to be.

The silence inside my ribs was strange. It wasn’t death. Blood moved through me with a slow force I could feel in every vein, driven by something other than the familiar human rhythm.

Stellan’s emotions reached me through our connection. Relief. Exhaustion. Love. Under all of them sat the fear he had held while my body lay still.

I kissed the scar beside his heart.

“I’m here.”

His mouth pressed into my hair. “You are.”

Footsteps stopped outside the door.

I heard Elias shift his weight in the corridor and Mara tell someone farther back to move away from the rooms. Every word was painfully clear.

“How do you stand this?” I asked.

“Practice.”

I concentrated on Stellan’s voice. The house receded a little. Rain became rain again instead of a hundred separate impacts.

Then someone dropped a metal tray two floors below, and I nearly climbed out of my skin.

Stellan’s mouth moved against my temple. “Practice,” he repeated.

Elias entered after Stellan opened the door. He examined my eyes, the healed bite at my throat and the place where a pulse should be. His hands remained steady while I tracked every small movement too closely.

“Name?” he asked.

“Bryony.”

“Where are you?”

“Harrowmere. In a bed I’ve already damaged.”

He almost smiled. “Do you hear another voice?”

I listened once more, reaching past hunger and the sounds of the house.