Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,68
face. “I hate you because you’re a murderous bastard, or did you forget that small detail?”
“If you help me get back to full power, I can help you too, and we can get the fuck out of this place. I guarantee your two lap dogs couldn’t do that.” He grazes his bottom lip with his teeth. “I have a lot more to offer than they do.”
“I can’t help, Dorian.” I turn away but he snatches my wrist. When I look back at him, he’s holding my wrist upwards, staring at the veins, and my stomach turns over as I try to tug my arm away. Nausea grows as he runs his thumb against the pulse point, eyes still on my wrist.
“Yes. You can.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “Witches come to me and let me feed, but nothing happens because they’ve no magic. They enjoy it—so do I—but the euphoria doesn’t last.”
“They’re crazy,” I mumble.
“I’ve never hurt one,” he says. “Not unless they ask—”
“Dorian,” I interrupt. “If you’re asking me to take part in your sexual perversions, you’re asking the wrong witch. I understand I’m a challenge to you, but believe me the ‘no’ won’t change.”
“Do you remember me tasting your blood the first day?” he whispers and drops my hand. “I tasted your magic and I swear that triggered something. You have the energy I’m missing. Do you realise how powerful that would make me—us? If you’d let me—”
Raising both hands between us, I shove him, and he almost loses his footing in shock. “Feed on me? You disgusting pig.”
Dorian pushes hair from his face and laughs at my pathetic insult. “I’m a patient guy, but I won’t risk my life. I don’t hurt girls, but if this becomes kill or be killed, you’ll lose. I only need your blood, not your co-operation.”
“Just fuck off, Dorian,” I snap in exasperation. “I have enough problems without your game playing.”
Dorian bursts out laughing. “You’ve had ‘the talk’ from Marcus, haven’t you? Did he offer you a seat at the Confederacy table if you’re a good girl?”
I press my lips together but don’t reply.
“And did they tell you that if you say ‘no’, they’ll ship you off to Nighthold?” He arches a brow. “I won’t be there to look after you.”
“I don’t need you to look after me,” I snap.
“You would if you’re at Nighthold. Alone.” My scalp prickles at memories of the pictures Marcus showed me. “Or did you say ‘yes’? What does he want you to do?”
I shake my head.
“Then why not join me and leave Ravenhold?”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” I crouch down to pick up broken ceramic pots from the floor, hands shaking.
“They showed you the pictures, huh?”
I jerk at his words and the sharp ceramic fragment nicks my finger. Fuck. This is all I need now Dorian has my blood on his mind. Curling my hand into a fist, I stand and shove it into my pocket. “I have to go.”
“Last chance, Eloise. I won’t offer again.”
I scrutinise his face for signs he’s aware I’m bleeding. “I have nothing for you, Dorian. Be the all-powerful hybrid on your own.”
The bench presses into my back as I edge away from him when he moves forward. “Yes, I can smell your blood, but I can wait,” he whispers.
As he turns away, I clench my fist harder. I almost shout out to tell him what Marcus asked me to do, because Dorian exposed something to me this evening.
Dorian is worried. He isn’t as powerful as he could be if the three of us are against him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jared doesn’t appear again and nobody seems disturbed by the outburst. I am. I’m on edge, watching for unusual behaviour now. I can’t figure out any connection between Samuel, who I was told ran screaming from meditation, and Jared and his freak-out in the greenhouse. Maybe the incidents are random?
How many kids go mad here and what happens to them?
Since our conversation yesterday, I’ve kept away from Zeke and Ethan. I need time to digest the conclusions we came to and barely believe this could be true. I’m more concerned than ever that Dorian might attack me, but he gave me an option I could consider, but refuse to.
My blood contains the gathering magic and energy to fuel Dorian’s. He’s right; if anybody were able to unite and fight back, we could.
But the thought of Dorian’s hands and mouth on my skin repulses me. I could never let the