Honeydew

HONEYDEW

D arkness.

Unending, cold, damp darkness. The scent of blood hangs in the air, a sharp metallic tang mingling with the rotten stench of dread.

It is quiet.

But that never lasts for long.

Soon the laughter will come. Maybe it is already here, haunting the thick, unforgiving shadows like the delicate tinkling of windchimes. Then the screams will come.

Because I am close.

Too close to losing myself.

I can't remember the last time I fed. The last time I killed. It couldn't have been that long, though. Weeks maybe? How pathetic. I could go twice as long before, but there are too many wounds scattered about my body now. I've lost too much blood.

Hunger gnaws at my insides with its own brand of poison-dipped teeth and claws as I struggle against the bonds holding me to the slab of stone. Barbed chains dig into my throat, my wrists…my ankles. I welcome the little bites of pain. It is my only reprieve from the agony of need.

I hate her.

I fucking hate her.

I strain harder against the fetters, mouth stretching wide. A guttural, raw howl echoes off dank walls. It sounds feral. Rabid. I know it's me. I feel it scratching and tearing up my throat, but I can't stop. And I know fighting the restraints will only worsen the bloodlust, but I can't stop. I don't learn, just like she always says.

My flesh rips and warmth cascades down my chest. My back arches—

A scent pierces the heavy smell of blood and sweat. A scent that doesn't belong. My senses flare.

Jasmine.

I lock up, my back still bowed as I drag in one deep lungful after another. The aroma is…heady. Intoxicating. Healing. I no longer feel the stinging grip of the spiked chains. Each breath comes out in short, shallow pants.

That scent….

It thickens and seeps into my pores as warmth spreads through me. My blood hums with hunger and…lust. My cock stirs to life and my jaw throbs. Dual needs spear me straight to my soul as my mind tries to make sense of what is happening.

I don't feel arousal here.

The jasmine aroma is flavored with desire.

But I've never reacted to arousal here.

Even when my body had betrayed me, it wasn't real. There was no emotion behind it. No burn of passion. Purely mechanical. An unwanted release birthed from her—from their—need to exert control and dominance.

But I'm hard.

I want.

I'm starving.

I need the source of that perfume and heat closer. I need it so badly that my mind is tricking me. Because I feel the warm weight and softness against my side and on my chest. And I know there's nothing soft here.

I'm so hungry.

I soak in the warm, soft weight. I drown myself. I want it. Need it. My arm curls, snapping the chain at my wrist. The scent of jasmine invades every cell, hardening my cock, stoking the hunger—

The warmth retreats, taking with it the jasmine. Panic explodes in my gut as rage lights up my chest. No. No. It's mine. The warmth. The softness. The blood—

A silvery cascade of laughter, like crystalline bells, dances through the air, and I snap.

I lose myself.

I'm no longer man.

I'm as feral as my howls, craven and driven by the crudest, primitive urges. With strength I shouldn't have, I rock upward, breaking the chains.

Crushing the darkness.

Shattering the blood-soaked floors.

Wrecking the damp walls.

Splintering the unseen cage.

I'm free—

My eyes snapped open to the faint rays of sunlight shaded in crimson. I was starved, and all that warmth and that scent was trying to retreat, to escape me. I could not allow it.

Rolling in one quick motion, my hand snaked out and wrapped around delicate skin. Fragile bones. I felt the wild fluttering of a pulse beneath my fingers as I forced the warmth beneath me, its soft inhale thundering inside my head.

Through a veil of red, I caught brief glimpses of lush lips, high rounded cheeks, and a stubborn jaw. Before the features became a blur, I saw. I saw enough. It looked like her . The one I hated.

My lips peeled back, baring my fangs in a low growl of warning. A deep, savage sound rumbled from my chest.

Her lips moved but I couldn't hear the words. All I heard was her taunting laughter. I tightened my grip on her neck, silencing her.

Her lips stopped moving.

Her body didn't.

Beneath me, her muscles tensed, and her arm flexed in the heartbeat before she swung her fist.

My hand snapped out, catching her wrist to pin her arm to the bed as she fought, straining just as I had against the chains. Satisfaction seeped into the emptiness that was my chest as she struggled fruitlessly. I could snap her neck with just one twist, though that wouldn't kill her. Tearing out her throat would. She was no match against me. Too small. Too soft—

But she had never been soft.

She was all sharp angles, thin skin and hard bones. Confusion swirled through the red haze in my mind.

I inhaled, picking up the faint scent of…jasmine. An ache pulsed from my jaw down to my cock.

She never smelled of jasmine.

This wasn't her.

This was….

I tried to see through the red fog—

Fiery pain prickled the length of my scalp as she grabbed a fistful of my hair, jerking my head back, reigniting my predator.

"Let go of me!" she yelled.

Tasting violence, a cold, dark sound clawed its way from my chest. I level my head. It didn't matter who she was. Hot blood pumped through her veins and would soon flow through mine. Need tightened my skin as I started to lower my head.

Starving.

She froze beneath me. A trace of fear joined that silky scent. Her mouth moved again, but it wasn't the pounding of bloodlust that quieted her words. It was the rising scent of fear and fading jasmine. It was the brief flash of green—dewy, green eyes. It was the inaudible whisper in the back of my mind. It was something moving in my chest—this tugging motion.

Her body jerked against mine. Worn, thin material was pressing against my chest, but soft, bare skin grazed my stomach. The feel of that brief touch rippled through every inch of my body, forcing out a low snarl as I lifted myself, allowing for an inch or two of space. My cloudy gaze swept down her, making out the color lilac against peach-hued skin that swelled sweetly, creating a valley that drew my gaze down. The material parted at the navel.

So hungry.

She spoke once more, this time a name as my gaze slid past her lower stomach, snagging on pale, jagged grooves in her skin. The sight angered me for some reason, driving out another growl even as my gaze kept lowering, coasting over the sparse, reddish-brown hair between her spread thighs. I inhaled, body vibrating as her scent teased my senses.

She tensed beneath me once more. The small twitches in her muscles betrayed her intentions in the seconds before she moved her arm again and I let her. I had more than enough time to stop her strike, but I couldn't pull my attention from the softest part of her.

I'd been there before, hadn't I? Touched her. Been inside her. Felt the tight heat of her clamping down on me. My flesh tightened even further as a series of sharp tingles ran their way down my spine, gathering in my groin.

I want….

My fingers eased from her throat as I moved down. Folding my hand around her soft hip, I shuddered at the feel of her flesh beneath my fingers. My chin, and then the bridge of my nose, grazed her stomach. The ache in my jaw became a pounding in my cock.

I want her….

Her softness.

Warmth.

I wanted her blood.

I would taste her.

Without warning, I felt her sit halfway up and then the kiss of a hot, hard blade pressed against my throat.

It didn't deter me.

My cheek coasted through the soft hair above the juncture of her thighs. A tremor ran up and down both of her legs. My nostrils flared with the mesmerizing scent of her—strong and sharp notes of jasmine intertwined with the intoxicating, musky aroma of arousal. It's a potent mix making my heart race and my mouth water.

The air seemed to vibrate with the growl that came from the back of my throat.

"I don't know what is wrong…but you…to let go of me." The dig of the blade at my throat stopped me. "Or we will find…what happens to… when their…is cut."

Her words were faint and far away in my red haze, but the threat was clear. My gaze shot to hers.

"Get off me." Her hand trembled and then the blade steadied. "Now."

So brave.

So foolishly brave.

She should've already slit my throat.

Because at some point the need to taste her had overcome the need to feed and taking that felt like a greater gift than even her blood. But I would feed on both.

I grew incredibly still as I locked onto her unwavering stare. Muscles up and down my spine tensed as my grip on her hip tightened. I didn't scent fear from her anymore as she held my gaze.

So, so courageous.

I thought I saw a…a flash of something in her eyes. I couldn't be sure. Crimson was clouding the corners of my vision but there seemed to be a faint gleam of silver behind her pupils. Neither of us moved for several moments.

A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, the sound accompanied by a stronger quiver that ran through her body. The scent of fear was still absent, almost like it had never really been there, replaced instead by a thickened aroma of arousal. I could almost taste it and it was nearly too much.

Her lips parted as the swells of her chest rose. The tip of her tongue darted under, wetting her lower lip. She pulled against the hold I still had on her arm.

I lifted one finger at a time, watching her closely. She remained in her half-inclined position, the blade still at my throat as I turned my head slightly. My chin dragged across the crease of her thigh. Her throat worked on a swallow. The hand holding the blade to my throat trembled as her desire filled my lungs.

A rolling rumble that was more like a purr hit the air. She shuddered at the sound, but it wasn't a shiver of fear. I knew that in my bones, so I waited like any good predator. Not for her to submit. Or to give in. I waited for her to take .

Her arm relaxed as her fingers opened. The blade fell to the mattress.

I didn't hesitate.

Gripping both hips, I lifted her to my mouth, and I took.

I dragged my tongue along the center of those pink, sweet lips. The moment her taste hit my tongue I was lost again. She was so soft. So responsive. So godsdamn wet. My mouth closed over the hooded peak of flesh, growling at the way her hips jerked and the flood of damp heat that followed. I drank her in, the sweetness there a nectar as addictive as the strongest blood. I was unable to get enough, my tongue lapping and delving deep. I feasted as her head kicked back, a soft cry parting her lips. Her hips rose to meet the thrust of my tongue but the barely leashed beast inside me wanted dominance. I held her in place, drunk on her taste, her whimpers and soft mewls. I devoured as her body arched, as I drowned in her scent and taste. Her body trembled, her moans growing louder and becoming a melody that replaced the darker, more primitive urges. Using my shoulders to widen her legs, I opened her up. I licked deeper, harder. Her wetness coated my lips as I tilted my head, dragging my fang over her clit.

She shattered with a scream, coming apart on my tongue, against my face, and it was beautiful. The way her entire body went rigid and then shook. How her arousal drenched my mouth and coursed down my throat. Fucking beautiful .

I rode her release with her, desperate for every last drop of her. She tasted like… sweetness and… and blood. Just a hint of it. I'd nicked her delicate flesh. A wound so small that I doubt she felt it but that little bit of blood….

A tremor rocked my shoulders as I struggled against a different set of chains. The frenzy was building in me.

No.

I didn't want to hurt her.

I…wanted her.

Opening my eyes, my murky gaze fixed on her inner thigh. There was a faded scar of a… Craven's bite there.

It hit me all at once, pieces of clarity coming through.

How I got to this point was fuzzy and fucked up, but I knew who I was.

Who she was.

What I'd just done.

What Poppy had allowed herself to take—allowed me to give.

And fucking gods, I wanted more.

I would never be satisfied.

I slid my tongue from her and lifted my head. In the back of my mind, I knew I needed to put space between us. I needed to get the fuck out of this chamber because I was not in control. The need to feed was still there, a vicious viper coiling in my gut. The need to get inside her was just as powerful. I wanted to fuck and feed from my princess, needed to feel her pussy clamping down on my dick as her blood flowed down my throat. I wanted it all from her.

Everything .

Poppy's cheeks were flushed with…blood. And that flush traveled down her throat and that tantalizing valley. Her head turned, chin dipping as her eyes opened. Licking my lips, I let go of her hip and planted a hand by her waist. Her eyes widened. She blinked several times and then went still, clearly sensing the change in me. She needed to pick up that knife.

She didn't.

My lips drew back—

The terrace door swung open, slamming into the wall as cold air poured into the room.

"I heard you scream," a voice said. "Obviously, I misread the situation."

My head whipped toward the door. A figure stood there, hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked familiar. I knew him but the sight of a man there while she was beneath me stroked that feral part of me that had never left, even after I escaped the Blood Crown. His gaze shifted from where I was still between her thighs to her—

The growl I let out was nothing like the ones before.

And he knew it.

His pale blue eyes widened. "Shit—Cas, my brother…."

That is all I heard. My body coiled like that viper inside me. My chin dipped as I let go of her hip. I bared my fangs.

"I hope you're listening, Poppy," he said, voice low as he removed his hand from the hilt. "When he lunges for me, I need you to run. Go to the area near the stables. It will have double doors. Find Naill or Delano. Get ready."

Neither of them was going to make it very far.

I started to push up.

A soft touch stopped me—her hand. She held my arm, and all…all of the sudden I felt a flood of warmth . Not the kind that either her or his body and blood offered me. A deeper kind. A warmth that carried a lightness. My breathing hitched as a rush of emotions swept over me in a tidal wave. Joy. Contentedness. Hope. Realization.

Poppy was using her gifts.

"It's okay, Hawke."

Her words were soft, just like her touch, but both were powerful. My entire body jerked as I was pulled from the lust for blood and body, the red haze clearing from my eyes and mind.

My gaze locked with…with Kieran's.

Fuck.

Breathing raggedly, I dropped my hands to the bed. They rested by… her hips. Her bare hips—

Fuck.

I really didn't need to think about that. Closing my eyes, I calmed myself. Not fucking easy with the taste of her on my tongue and the memories of her pleasured cries deciding to play themselves over and over. It took minutes for the madness to retreat, and when it did, I was left with shame and sorrow.

I should've been able to control myself. I could've hurt her, and if I had, I would not have lived to see another sunrise. I didn't need to look at Kieran's face to see he knew that too.

But did he know that I didn't regret tasting her?

Did she know how that fueled my shame? Because I should have regretted it. But I didn't. I would never regret feeling her come on my tongue.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes and met Poppy's gaze. I was frozen again, this time by the… acceptance in her stare.

I didn't deserve that.

She dropped her hand to her side, not looking away.

I let out a ragged breath as I reached for the halves of her robe. My hands trembled slightly because she was still on my tongue. She tasted like…. "Honeydew," I murmured, tugging the cloth together, covering her. My hands lingered for a moment as I met her gaze once more. "I'm sorry."

I didn't wait for her response.

I rose and walked away from the bed, passing Kieran. He didn't try to stop me as I stepped out into the cold, snowy air.

I was sorry.

I was sorry for a lot of things when it came to Poppy, but fuck me, the taste of her in my mouth could never be one of them.

I was a fucking greedy, selfish bastard.