Chapter 4: The First Taste
1208 Words
The days bled together, each darker than the last.
Nysera had returned to her small house. It felt less like a home and more like a cage. The villagers’ wary respect had curdled into open fear. They watched her. Their eyes followed her, conversations dying as she passed.
She was a walking plague.
The ache was her constant companion. A hollow, empty feeling, as if her bones were being slowly scooped out. She moved through her chores like a ghost. The simplest tasks left her breathless.
And always, the pull.
A physical string tied to her sternum, yanking her toward the forest. Toward him. A dull throb that flared into a sharp, screaming need. While stirring soup, she would suddenly gasp, knees buckling. The only thought: Vaelric.
He was always there, just beyond the tree line. A shadow. She never saw him, but she felt him. A low hum in her skull. Sometimes, in the deep silence of the night, she would hear his voice in her mind.
You’re colder today.
The first time, she’d jolted upright. I’m not, his mental voice came again, rough with exhaustion. The bond… It’s getting stronger. I can feel the chill in your veins.
“Get out of my head,” she’d whispered.
I can’t.
And she realized she could feel him too. Not his thoughts, but the edges of his emotions. A constant, grinding guilt. A fierce, protective anger. And beneath it, a hunger so vast it felt like an abyss.
They were never alone.
After three days, she could barely stand. She’d tried to eat, but the food tasted like ash. Her hands were so cold she could barely feel them. She stumbled to her door, leaning heavily against the frame. This was how she would die.
No.
The word was a command in her mind.
Come outside. To the edge of the woods.
“No,” she mumbled. It was a trap.
Nysera. His voice was softer, pleading. You’re fading. Just… come to the light. Let me see you. It will help.
It was a lie. But she was so tired. So cold.
Using the wall for support, she shuffled outside. Each step was agony. The pull was a fishhook. She crossed the barren field, sinking to her knees at the forest's edge.
A branch snapped.
He emerged from the shadows. He looked worse than she felt. His face was etched with exhaustion. His silver eyes burned as they took her in.
“Gods,” he breathed.
He stopped a dozen paces away. The effect was immediate. The piercing cold retreated. The weakness lessened. A broken sob escaped her lips.
“See?” he said, his hands clenched into fists. “The trap.”
“I hate this,” she whispered. “I hate needing this.”
“I know.” She could see the conflict in him. “I can… hold it back. For a little while. Let just enough through to keep you on your feet.”
“You can control it?”
“No,” he said, the final word. “I’m just… slowing the drain. Making your death longer. It’s a cruelty, dressed up as kindness.”
He took a single step closer. The warmth intensified. Life returned to her numb hands. She couldn’t stop the desperate sound that escaped her.
He froze. “Don’t,” he gritted out. “Don’t sound like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it feels good. Like I’m helping you.” His eyes were full of a storm. “Every second I’m here, the bond gets stronger. Your craving will get worse. My hunger… grows.”
“Then why are you here?” she asked.
His answer shattered her. “Because I can’t listen to you die from a mile away.”
They stayed like that. He, the source of the poison and the antidote. She, the victim learning to love her executioner.
Finally, a tremor ran through him. The warmth faltered.
“I have to go,” he said, strained. “I can’t… hold it.”
“No,” she begged, lurch forward. “Please. Just a little longer.”
The sight of her broke him. His control snapped.
He closed the distance, kneeling before her. His hands hovered a hair’s breadth from her skin, shaking.
“Nysera,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. His eyes were wild, the silver blazing. “You have to understand. This isn’t me. This is the curse. It wants… it wants…”
He was lying to himself.
He leaned in. His lips brushed against hers.
It was a collision.
The world exploded.
For her, it was a supernova. The cold and ache vanished. Her senses sharpened impossibly. She felt whole. Invincible. It was the most incredible feeling of her life.
For him, it was a transfusion of life. The guilt quieted. Power flooded his veins. A feeling of rightness.
It lasted a single, perfect heartbeat.
Then reality returned.
The strength vanished from her. A crushing weight settled on her chest. The light faded from her eyes.
She made a small, choked sound, and collapsed.
Vaelric caught her, her body limp and light. “No,” he breathed, horror drenching him. “No, no, no.”
He shook her gently. “Nysera? Look at me!”
Her eyelids fluttered. The mark on her neck was now a livid, angry brand.
He had done this. One taste. One moment of weakness.
He gathered her into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. He was thrumming with stolen vitality.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, his voice breaking.
He carried her back to her cottage, laying her gently on her bed. He stood over her, trembling with self-loathing.
He had broken his vow.
With a final, agonised look, he turned and fled.
He didn’t stop until he was deep in the forest. He fell to his knees beside a creek. The power still coursed through him, a mocking reminder.
He looked at his reflection in the dark water. The man had clear skin, bright eyes, and vitality.
He saw only a monster.
He slammed his fist into the water, shattering the image.
Back in the cottage, Nysera drifted in a grey, painless place.
Then, a voice slithered into the void. Cold, ancient, layered with whispers.
So sweet, the Shade murmured. His first taste. And you gave it so willingly. You felt the power, didn’t you? You liked it.
He will try to resist now. He will hate himself. He will stay away. The voice chuckled. But the hunger is in him now. Your light is in him. He will not be able to stay away for long. And the next time… he will not stop at a taste.
The voice faded, leaving a single, poisonous thought.
You will beg him for it.
When Nysera woke, it was dark. The memory was a sharp, clear wound. She felt weak, but stable. She touched her lips. They still tingled.
And despite everything, a deep, hidden, shameful part yearned to feel that incredible power again.
The trap was no longer around her. It was inside her.
She had taken the first taste, and she was already starving for another.
- Writer
