Chapter7
891 Words
Michael’s POV
The chamber room felt suffocating.
The air was thick with tension, the pull of the blood moon amplifying and enhancing everything, our senses, emotions, instincts.
I sat on my throne, looking through the crowd of wolves that had gathered. Though physically present, my mind was elsewhere.
Samara.
She clouded my thoughts. I couldn't take my mind off her no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t stop replaying the memory of her beneath me, her legs shaking, her body trembling. Her eyes were clouded with fear and yet, I had taken what I wanted.
I sighed heavily, my hands balled into fists at my sides. How was I supposed to face her now?
I'm sure she doesn't want anything to do with me and the thought is frightening.
The air in the chamber felt limited. The presence of my packmates only suffocated me further, their excitement feeding off the moon’s energy. The full moon’s pull was stronger than usual, pushing into my veins like fire, making my skin itch.
I needed air.
“I need air,” I muttered, already moving toward the exit.
Natalie’s voice stopped me. “Michael.”
As she approached me, I tried making my expression to remain unreadable as I wasn't in the mood for her nagging.
She stopped in front of me and there was a knowing look in her golden eyes, her brows drawn together slightly in concern.
“Where are you going?”
I sighed. “I feel suffocated by the full moon’s energy. It’s too strong. I just need some air.”
Her gaze lingered on my face as if searching for something more.
For a brief second, I thought she might press further, but to my surprise she nodded. “Don’t be long.”
I stepped out of the hall.
The silence was a relief, but my thoughts kept wandering. I found myself walking around aimlessly. My feet led me to her cell room before I even realized it.
I stopped outside her ward door. The faint but strong scent of her blood pulling me to her but I resisted.
A part of me ached to go in and apologize, to demand her attention, to make her see me. But another part of me knew I had no right and I was sure she hated me.
What was I even supposed to say?
“I’m sorry for forcing myself on you?”
The thought made my stomach twist.
I exhaled sharply and turned away.
Fresh air. That’s all I needed.
I stepped outside, letting the cool night breeze wash over me, but the scent of her blood was everywhere, like she had been there.
I couldn't help but think she wasn't in her cell room. She should have been asleep, there was no way she was out here.
The moon loomed high above, its dark red glow made my pulse quicken, the energy in my veins burned hotter.
I noticed a small figure standing just beyond the entrance, bathed in moonlight.
Samara.
I froze.
Why was she out here? Alone?
She should have been sleeping.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, her face tilted slightly upward, lost in thought.
Something deep inside me stirred. I felt the sweet taste of her blood from last time and it made me want to drink from her again.
The pull of the full moon added to my need for her blood.
I needed just a sip from her and I'd be fine.
The urge was too strong.
I couldn't stop myself, my feet moved on their own.
One second, I was standing still. The next, I was on her.
A scared gasp escaped her lips as my hands grabbed her, pinning her in place.
I wasn’t able to think.
I couldn’t think.
All I knew was her scent, the sweet but intoxicating aroma of the blood just beneath her skin.
Just a sip and I'd let her go.
My fangs sank into her neck.
The moment her blood touched my tongue, I felt contented, satisfied, but yet I wanted more.
Samara struggled at first, her hands pushing weakly against my chest. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, but it only encouraged me to drink more.
I felt my body begin to weaken, she no longer fought against me. A part of me begged for me to stop, but I couldn't bring myself to.
“Michael”
She was barely audible.
But it shattered me.
My body stiffened, my clouded eyes cleared just enough for me to realize what I’d done.
I quickly got off her and noticed she was limp, her breathing shallow with her face stained with tears.
What have I done?
The scent of blood was everywhere, thick, suffocating. But suddenly, it made me sick instead of hungry.
“Samara?” My voice desperate as my body trembled.
She didn’t utter a sound.
Her face was pale, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t.
I had gone too far.
I had nearly killed her and I hated myself for that.
I lifted her and I could tell she had lost weight. My breath was heavy and fast. I coul
dn't stand the thought of killing her due to my selfishness.
It felt fear. I felt she was slipping away.
And it was my fault.
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