Chapter Three
C A R O L I N E
"No!" I wailed, limping to the other side of the doctor's room.
Dominic rolled his eyes and stormed after me. "Honestly, Caroline. It's not like it hurts. Come here."
I fumbled around for a weapon, grabbing a metal tray that usually held Doc's instruments, but was empty. I wielded it in front of me, like a shield, but Dominic just plucked it from my hands, tossing it onto the floor. My feet scrambled towards another corner of the room, but he caught me easily.
"Stop being dramatic."
He took my hand and dragged me back to the gurney, unaffected by how I dug my heels into the floor, whining for him to release me.
"Okay, princess, sit up here," he said, using his free hand to pat the hospital bed invitingly.
When I still battled against him, Dominic leaned forward and poked my injured hip, and I stopped fighting to sob in pain. He took my distraction to lift me onto the hospital bed, sitting in front of him, so we were almost eye to eye. He was still several inches taller than me, but the distance was shortened, at least.
I whimpered as he pulled out a scalpel from a nearby drawer, lifting it to the side of his neck. "Once I make the cut, you have to be quick, before it heals," he said simply.
"No, no! I can't. I'll throw up."
"You will not. It's just blood. It'll heal you."
One of his hands moved to the back of my neck as the other swiftly drew the blade down, blood bubbling to the open wound. Bile rose in my throat as he lifted my head towards him. I feebly set my hands on his chest, pushing myself as far away as possible.
"Drink up, Princess. Come on, sugar," he hummed. "The sooner you do the sooner - dammit. Already healed. Look at me."
With tears welled in my eyes, I glanced up. "Stop the theatrics. You will drink it this time, or so help me, Cara, I will make you take it from a much more exciting place. You should be thanking me for giving you such a harmless punishment. I am being lenient."
"Then I'll take anything except this!" I cried out. "I don't... I can't-"
He went down the same healed slice, reopening it. This time, he didn't give me time to stop him. Dominic dropped the scalpel, cupping my neck to pull me towards him until my mouth was slotted straight over the wound, blood seeping between my lips, ignoring my squeals and gags. It was awful. The taste, the thickness of it. Just the thought that this was his blood that I had to swallow, that was filling my mouth and running down my chin. This was the second time I had ever had to do this, and it was no easier than the first. That time I had thrown up for hours afterward.
Once the cut healed again, blood no longer dripping into my mouth, he pulled me back down to sit, covering my lips and nose with one hand. "Swallow and I'll let you breathe."
As tears fell slowly down my cheeks, I forced myself to swallow the thick, iron-tasting blood. After what seemed like years, but was probably less than a minute, he slowly let me go. I thought he was going to just leave. But instead, he flipped me over and yanked my pants down to watch his blood fix me.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked once he released me.
I wiped at my face in embarrassment, trying to rid myself of the tears. "My little vampire," he cooed at me.
