Damian's Oracle (Chapter Seven, page 2 of 12)

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"Wow," she murmured. "You really want to win this bet, don't you?"

"You're too smart to be so damn stubborn. Jake lost his life saving you, Sofia, and you're acting like a fucking two-year-old." And he walked away. Sofia watched him, stunned by his rebuke. Her thoughts went to Jake, and she saddened. He was right. He was always right, even when he told her to ask Damian something he knew very well.

On her terms. If she had it her way, she'd not do it at all. She'd never known hunger like this!

"It's your fate," she reminded herself.

How silly was an Oracle who refused her own destiny? If for no other reason, she owed it to Jake to try. She drew a deep breath and marched into the mansion. Damian was rarely indoors during the day, and she hoped he wasn't in his room when she knocked. Her courage fled to see him framed in his doorway, as seductive by day as he was by night.

He didn't ask her why she came but stepped aside and motioned her in. Sofia balled her fists and entered, sweating at the thought of the ordeal ahead.

"I feel like some sort of animal," she told him. But I want to live. "I'm scared, Damian."

"I know," he said, holding out a hand to her.

She took it, her insides quaking in anticipation and hunger. He sat her down on the couch and sat down across from her with the knife in hand. She closed her eyes, more of his home videos playing through her mind.

"Stop," he warned.

She opened her eyes. A flash of darkness went through his gaze, and the same sense of hidden fury returned.

"You hate this."

"I do, but not because of you," he said.

"Someone hurt you? Was this during your dark period?"

"It was," he confirmed between clenched teeth.

She took the hint but wondered who had hurt him so badly that he still bore a grudge thousands of years later. He sliced his wrist, and her attention turned immediately to thick liquid bubbling against his olive skin.

This isn't right.

You'll die without it.

She recoiled, pushing herself against the couch. He sat beside her, stroking her hair with one hand.

"You won't hurt me," he assured her.

She refused to move. He shifted his hand to her neck and held her in place, placing his bloodied wrist against her lips.

The scent, the taste, was unlike anything she ever experienced. Sofia licked her lips, the rich flavor as ensnaring as his scent. She lapped once with the tip of her tongue, tasting both the metallic, spicy blood and her tears. She opened her mouth and drank from him, timidly at first then hungrily. Damian hissed beside her, his grip on her neck tightening. She withdrew, afraid to hurt him.

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