Losing It All Is Easier Than Getting It Back

Chapter 3

PICTURE OF XAVIER ------>

~Zane’s POV~

Anger and pure anguish washed over me as I stared at her sleeping form. I felt my stomach turn with both anxiety and a strange sort of excitement at the memories of how wonderful her blood had tasted. I had spent nearly half a century refusing blood from the source and now I had lost control over something that was entirely my fault.

I shook my head and tried not to look up at her. I couldn’t believe I had lost control over just a simple scrape when I had managed to be around some of the bloodiest scenes ever recorded in vampire history. Something about her blood had lit a fuse in me, sent me in frenzy, and had me craving her.

I called out with my mind, desperate to get Xavier’s attention. ‘I need your help. I really don’t know what is going on; I just need to talk to you.’

I waited patiently for my brother to reply in silence. Unable to sit still for more than a few seconds I began pacing until he responded in his normal sarcastic but playful tone. ‘What happened this time a human got hurt or was Dad being an ass again?’

I couldn’t help but smile slightly. He was younger than me in vampiric years but the same age in mortal age. It was strange how the entire situation worked out. Whenever vampires were born they would fully mature between the ages of eighteen and twenty five so whatever age we stopped maturing or changing in any way was usually the age that we called ourselves in the mortal world. Xavier had stopped maturing at the age of nineteen around the same time I had. ‘Well a lot has happened actually. And on a basic level both has happened.’

I could sense his confusion. ‘Meet me in the tower.’

I didn’t reply but instead I made my way to the door casting one last glance at Kat before shutting the door and locking it on my way out.

~Normal POV~

I opened my eyes to an empty room. I felt a stab of relief and I sat up, exhaustion dragging at my limbs. I shook my head and tried to remember what exactly had happened between me getting out of the shower and waking up on the bed fully clothed. I could clearly remember me falling and cutting my leg and hen Zane cleaning it before taking me to the chair…

I glance over at the chair in shock as I the small but highly noticeable blood stain. He had fed off of me. My eyes were wide as I gently fingered the two puncture wounds on my neck. Forgetting my tiredness I leapt off the bed, adrenaline pumping through me and dashed for the bathroom. I didn’t pause to step over the towel that lay on the floor, instead running directly over it in my haste to make it to the mirror.

I looked at my reflection in horror, and grabbed a brush and began to pull at the dried tangles. Afterwards I pulled back my hair and gazed with wide eyes at my neck. I had only been bitten once before when Harold had become too violent and had lost control. I shuddered at the memory before exiting the bathroom, unsure of the rules that Zane expected of me. I figured I definitely wasn’t allowed on the furniture, unless of course he put me there himself, so I wedged myself in between the desk on the far wall and the neighboring wall, fitting into the corner where I couldn’t be seen unless someone was really looking hard. I then closed my eyes and silenced my fears temporarily by forcing myself back to sleep.

~Zane’s POV~

I paced the tower impatiently, occasionally eyeing the spot where Kat had first been. Everywhere I looked in my room I would remember her, anything from the way she looked at something to actually having contact with it. Now it was the tower’s turn to torture me. Usually it brought me peace and I could gather my thoughts without disturbance, now it was only one more thing against me. Or at least that was what it felt like.