Donovan (Vampire Vows Book 3), page 5
I hesitated. “Declan.”
“Please.”
I didn’t like leaving him like this. On edge. Teetering. But I also knew pushing him right now would only make it worse. So I nodded.
“I’ll be back soon,” I assured him.
He didn’t look at me when I left. But as I stepped out the door, I heard him whisper, “Hurry.”
After getting dressed properly and gathering my gear, I stepped out of the cabin.
The air was crisp with the bite of the night, the scent of damp earth and pine thick around me as I adjusted the strap of my rifle.
Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to not leave Declan alone in that cabin. Not when I’d seen the way his hands had trembled, the way hunger had darkened his eyes.
But I had no choice.
I had to do this. I moved further into the woods, my boots crunching softly against the damp ground. Before I got too deep, I glanced back at the cabin.
The cabin sat in the middle of nowhere, the kind of place that didn’t show up on most maps. That was why I’d chosen it.
The owner had listed it online, but he was off in another country, meaning no one would be checking in anytime soon.
Just us. No people. No distractions. No one to get hurt if things went wrong.
The bedroom window was partially visible between the trees, its thin curtains shifting with the wind. And then, movement.
My pulse kicked up as I spotted Declan pacing behind the curtains, his figure restless, agitated. I clenched my jaw. He was struggling.
Even from here, I could feel it, like a wire pulled so tight it was seconds from snapping.
Guilt settled in my chest, but I turned back toward the forest. I had to get this done quickly.
Hunting an animal was a whole different skill from hunting the things I was used to. Paranormals were predictable to me, their patterns ingrained in my mind.
But animals? That was something I hadn’t done in years. Still, instinct took over.
I moved silently through the trees, scanning the underbrush for signs of movement.
It took longer than I wanted, but eventually, I caught sight of a deer grazing in a small clearing.
A hare wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Declan, but a deer… a deer might.
I slowly unstrapped my rifle, raising it with careful precision. The weight of it was familiar, steady in my hands. I took a step forward, angling myself to get the perfect shot.
The deer’s ears twitched, but it didn’t bolt. I had to be quick. Finger on the trigger, I exhaled, preparing to shoot. And then I heard it.
A low, guttural snarl rumbled behind me, deep and menacing.
My blood turned ice-cold.
I froze, my muscles locking up as the sound sent a sharp jolt of adrenaline through me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That growl wasn’t human.
Slowly, carefully, I eased my finger off the trigger.
Every instinct screamed at me to move, to turn, to face whatever had crept up behind me. But I didn’t. Not yet. I couldn’t afford to make a sudden move.
The deer lifted its head, ears alert, and then bolted into the trees, disappearing in seconds. But I didn’t look after it.
I stayed exactly where I was, my breath shallow, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The growl came again, closer this time and I knew I wasn’t alone.
I spun, brushing against branches and twigs, not caring the deer had probably taken flight by my movement.
The leaves crunched underfoot, the sharp scent of the forest filling my lungs, and the adrenaline still thrumming in my veins.
A rustle behind me caught my attention, a low snarl that sent a chill down my spine. Instinctively, I froze, every muscle tense, every nerve alight.
My heart skipped a beat, and then another as I slowly turned my head, squinting into the thick underbrush.
I couldn't see anything at first, but the growl grew louder, closer, more menacing.
Then, it emerged from the shadows.
A creature, tall and gaunt, its skin stretched tight over bones that jutted at unnatural angles. Its face was hollow, sunken, its mouth smeared with something dark.
Blood. Its eyes, those bloodshot, glassy red eyes, locked onto mine with an unnatural hunger, its lips peeling back to reveal jagged, needle-like fangs.
The scent of rot clung to it, thick and nauseating, a stench of decay and something fouler, something wrong.
The way it moved, jerky and uncoordinated yet eerily fast, sent a bolt of unease down my spine. It was a vampire, but not like Declan.
Not like the ones who still clung to their humanity. This thing was feral.
A snarl tore from its throat, a rasping, guttural sound that made my pulse stutter. And then, from the periphery, another form slithered out from behind a tree.
Smaller but just as horrifying, this one had patches of flesh peeling from its face, its hands twisted into claws, its fingers far too long.
Its mouth hung open, saliva glistening in the dim light as its tongue darted out, tasting the air.
I stiffened.
Two of them.
I barely had time to process before the first lunged.
It moved too fast. One second, it was feet away; the next, it was right in front of me, swiping at my throat with razor-sharp nails.
I threw myself back, dodging by mere inches, the wind from its movement grazing my skin.
My feet tangled in the underbrush, and I barely caught myself, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
The second vampire crouched low, its fingers digging into the dirt, lips curling into something that might have once been a grin. It was playing with me.
I swallowed hard.
Were there more of them in these woods? Was this their territory? The question spiraled in my mind, but I couldn’t afford to waste time.
The first one snarled, its jaw unhinging as it lunged again. I ducked just in time, feeling the sickening brush of its fingernails against my shoulder.
My instincts screamed at me to fight, to run, but the second one was already moving.
It was quicker than I expected.
I twisted to the side, barely avoiding the swipe of its claws, but the first one took advantage of my distraction.
Its hands wrapped around my wrist, vice-like, its grip cold as death.
A searing pain shot up my arm as its nails dug deep into my skin.
I bit back a curse, yanking my arm free, stumbling backward. The wound burned, but there was no time to dwell on it.
The first vampire’s head twitched at an unnatural angle, its nostrils flaring as it scented the air. Its hunger was almost palpable, radiating off of it in waves.
The second one let out a chittering sound, like laughter.
I had no doubt now.
They weren’t just feral. They were starving.
And I was their next meal.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DECLAN
The pain in my chest was suffocating, gnawing at me, a hunger deeper than anything I could have imagined.
It was there, always there, a gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill.
It had only been a day since I’d turned, and yet I felt like I’d been carrying this hunger with me for a lifetime.
The wind whispered through the trees, the distant murmur of a creek pounding against my eardrums.
And worse the scent was everywhere in this cabin, overloading my senses. Donovan.
That intoxicating, heady scent of him wrapped around me like a blanket, a feverish desire crawling under my skin, making my muscles twitch, my veins ache.
I could taste him in the air, and my thoughts grew clouded with the need to have him, to sink my fangs into that perfect column of his throat.
To claim him the way my instincts demanded.
I couldn’t do this to him.
I had promised him, promised him I wouldn’t become this thing. I had asked him to end me before I turned, before the monster inside me could take control.
But now, it was too late. The darkness had already consumed me, and every day I would be more and more lost in it. I was a danger to him, to everyone I once knew.
I stumbled away from the cabin, my legs weak beneath me. The hunger twisted in my gut, pulling me, pushing me.
My fangs ached, pushing against the inside of my gums, desperate to sink into flesh, to taste blood, to end this torment.
But it was Donovan’s scent, so clear, so vivid, that made my head spin.
It wrapped around me, the lure of it stronger than anything else. No, I thought, shaking my head, trying to push the hunger back. I can’t. This isn’t me, but my body didn’t listen. My senses were too sharp, too demanding, and they didn’t care about the promises I’d made. They only cared about one thing: Donovan.
My feet moved before I could stop them, my senses pulling me toward him, toward the faintest trace of his scent, leading me deeper into the woods.
My body felt feverish. Could vampires even get feverish?
The heat that rushed through me felt like it was tearing me apart, like every instinct I had was warring with the part of me that still held onto my humanity.
My head throbbed as I pushed forward, unable to stop, my chest tight with the strain of resisting.
The bloodlust was a force unlike anything I had ever felt.
It consumed me, clouding my judgment, making it impossible to think beyond the overwhelming need to have Donovan.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, the rational part of me, the part that still loved Donovan, that still cared about him, fought to remind me that I couldn’t.
I couldn’t do this to him. I couldn’t hurt him. And then I heard a bone-chilling inhuman snarl, echoing through the trees, followed by a scream.
A scream that sliced through the haze of my thoughts and sent a shockwave of panic straight through my chest.
Donovan. The world tilted, and I felt my feet move faster, my heart racing as if I could outrun the beast inside me.
The scream was still fresh in my mind, and with it came the primal urge to protect him, to shield him from whatever danger he was in.
The bloodlust that had been gnawing at me faded into the background, replaced by a surge of protectiveness so intense it almost blinded me.
I couldn’t let anything happen to him.
I raced through the trees, my legs carrying me faster than I thought possible, my mind focused only on Donovan.
The snarls continued, growing closer, and with each one, the fear in my chest deepened. My mind screamed at me to hurry, to move faster, to get to him before it was too late.
The closer I got, the clearer the scents became—blood, fear, and Donovan’s distinct scent, so strong now, so close. My chest tightened with each step.
I could hear the snarls and growls of a creature in the distance, the snap of twigs, and the unmistakable sound of Donovan’s breath, ragged and desperate.
He was in trouble.
I couldn’t. No, I wouldn’t let him face whatever was out there alone. He was mine to protect.
I had promised him that I would keep him safe, and I had broken that promise the moment I let myself be consumed by the hunger inside me.
But I wasn’t going to let him die. I couldn’t. My thoughts were a blur of panic and rage as I closed the distance between us.
My body, still overwhelmed by the thirst, was pushing me forward, but now, it was something else driving me.
It was the need to save him, to shield him from harm, to protect him from whatever nightmare had found him in these woods.
I broke through the trees, into a clearing, and what I saw made my blood run cold.
Donovan was on the ground, struggling, his chest heaving as he tried to fight off two creatures, Vampires, as monstrous as the abomination that turned me.
Their skin was pallid and stretched tight over sharp bones, their eyes wild with hunger, their fangs elongated beyond what was natural.
One of them was perched over him, its gaping maw snapping inches from his throat, while the other lurked behind, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Without thinking, I launched myself at them. My senses were still overwhelmed, but the sight of Donovan, my Donovan, vulnerable, so close to death, snapped me into focus.
I moved faster than I thought possible, my body slamming into the first creature with enough force to send it flying through the air.
It landed hard on the ground, its shriek of surprise turning into a guttural snarl.
The other vampire turned toward me, its bloodshot eyes narrowing with fury, but I was already on it, my fangs bared, my hands curled into fists.
The bloodlust was back in full force, but now, there was something else. Something that made the hunger less important.
I wasn’t just fighting for myself, for the monster inside me.
I was fighting for Donovan, for the man I cared deeply about, the man I couldn’t allow to be torn apart by these creatures.
The second vampire lunged at me, its claws swiping toward my throat, but I was faster.
I slammed my fist into its ribs with enough force to send it staggering back, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop until it was dead.
Donovan was still on the ground, and he was bleeding. I needed to finish this.
The first vampire was back on its feet, rushing at me again, but I twisted at the last second, using its momentum against it.
My elbow cracked against its skull, and it shrieked, momentarily disoriented.
I didn’t wait. I lunged forward and sank my fangs into its throat, the warm rush of blood filling my mouth.
Its struggling weakened as its shrieks became gurgles before it went limp in my grip. I turned back to Donovan, my heart pounding.
He was barely conscious, his face pale, his body trembling. His blood smeared his skin, the scratches and bite marks on his arms and neck glaringly obvious.
Fear twisted in my gut, but it wasn’t the hunger anymore. It was the terror that came from realizing how close I had come to losing him.
I knelt beside him, my hands shaking as I gently lifted him into my arms, pulling him close. His head rested against my chest, his breath shallow, his eyes barely open.
“I’m here, Donovan,” I whispered, my voice rough. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His hand gripped my shirt weakly, and I felt a stab of guilt pierce my chest. I had been willing to leave him.
I had thought it was better for him. But now, now that I had him in my arms, I knew I would never let him go.
I stumbled back to the cabin, my body trembling with the aftermath of the fight.
Donovan barely weighed a thing in my arms, and I studied him. His breath was shallow, his skin cool to the touch.
He’s alive, I reminded myself. The forest had been eerily silent when I’d left it behind.
The feral vampires were dead. But as I carried Donovan back to the cabin, a thought gnawed at me.
What if they had more allies in the woods? What if this wasn’t over? If those creatures had others lurking nearby, they would come looking.
The scent of their dead would linger, and when they found the bodies, it would only be a matter of time before they sought revenge.
And when they did, if they did, they’d come after Donovan. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make sure that once he was better, once I got him through this, we would leave.
The sooner, the better. The thought of facing any more of those creatures, or any other threats lurking in the woods, was too much.
My thoughts were jumbled as I pushed open the door to the cabin.
I had barely managed to keep myself from losing control completely out there, and I hadn’t even realized how much blood was on me until I stepped inside.
Donovan’s blood. The only blood I wanted to taste was his, but not like this. Not when he was hurt, weak, so helpless in my arms.
I laid him down gently on the couch, panic gnawing at me as I brushed his hair away from his forehead. His color was off, his lips pale.
I’d been in enough situations to know how bad it looked, but I couldn’t bring myself to think that this was the end for him. I couldn’t.
I rushed around the cabin, searching for any kind of first-aid supplies.
I didn’t have much experience with treating injuries, but I knew enough to keep him alive until I could figure out the rest.
My hands shook as I dug through cabinets, pulling out bandages, gauze, and antiseptic.
The sound of Donovan’s ragged breathing was the only thing that anchored me to the reality of the moment.
It reminded me that he was still here. He wasn’t gone yet.
I turned back to Donovan, swallowing the fear that clogged my throat. His injuries were bad, but not impossible to fix.
At least not most of them. His body was covered in bruises and scratches, the kind you’d expect from a fight with a pack of rabid monsters.
But it was his arm that worried me the most. It looked real bad. The bone was surely fractured. Not broken at least, I thought with some relief.
Still, the blood that oozed from the wound was thick and dark, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin.
I knelt beside him, my fingers trembling as I gently lifted his arm to examine it more closely.
His face twisted in pain, and I winced, hating myself for causing him even more discomfort.
I needed to stabilize it, to make sure it didn’t get worse. I found some makeshift splints in the cabin, cutting strips of cloth and wood to secure his arm as best I could.
I worked quickly but carefully, trying to keep the pressure off the wound while still making sure the bone was immobilized.
His body shuddered with each movement, but he didn’t say anything. Not a word. When I was finished, I sat beside him, my hand hovering over his, unsure of what to do.
My undead heart was a mess, torn between the fear of losing him and the deep, unrelenting desire to take care of him.
"Donovan," I whispered, my voice rough, as if the very sound of his name could bring him back to me. "Donovan, stay with me."
