Prey

Chapter 52

Xander's POV:

She wasn't eating, and I've tried everything.

She barely gave the lava cake a second glance, and completely passed up the milkshake she loved after that.

Nothing.

I even tried some lighter meals. Soups, small finger foods, smoothies.

I've been sitting at my desk nearly all day so that the phone was always within grasp, pondering what to try next

Nothing. Absolutely nothing was working.

Nothing more than a single hooded-eyed glance from the new spot she's taken by the window.

I guess I should be partially grateful that she left the cage at all, and that she was at least taking the water.

It was a small success but still wasn't anywhere near enough.

Not when I knew how much she loved food.

My ears were practically trained on her at this point.

Ever since this morning I've been monitoring her from my ears alone, almost as if just on instinct.

Every growl of her stomach caused a folding in mine, and a hard zap in my chest that made my panic for her to dig deeper.

That strange feeling again showed the active presence of the instinctive part of me.

It's sure had a lot to say lately, and I think I just preferred if it stayed dormant like it was supposed to.

Although this time the feeling was different.

Instead of pestering, It was like it was just standing on guard with me.

Like it was present just in case, checking in whenever I used the advanced senses they gave me.

This time it felt like we were in an agreement.

Mostly...

Do something already! Fix this!

I could feel the message and the push shooting itself through every nerve in my body, causing every muscle in me to tighten.

For my breath to catch and claws to slip out momentarily before I could ease everything back into relaxation.

It's been getting worse and worse with every passing minute.

With the knowledge of what happens and with Doe's condition.

Knowing what my poor foresight and lack of planning when her life was on the line cost me.

How she still wouldn't pay me a glance but that wasn't as important to me as the fact that she was wasting away.

Suffering so much for what I did.

For a mistake I made, and yet she was taking the consequence for.

All of which felt so disgustingly familiar, and added drop after drop of bitter guilt that I deserved to swallow.

For a stupid mistake that I let her get included in.

None of this was fair to her.

Which was one of the reasons the restless need to talk to her was always present in my mind.

I knew her. Every part of me did, and I believe that's why the pushes I'm getting from them aren't as forceful as they could be.

They were the embodiment of everything I wanted to do, but couldn't.