Dralan [On Hold]

Twenty-Four

[Cover made by @Sweetishlove 😁]

Leyla

She thought she could do it.

She thought she could block out her emotions, be strong and keep her head high.

But that was before he came back to the chamber last night, smelling of her.

He hadn't spoken a word. Hadn't even looked at her. All he did was strip out of his boots, weapons and shirt and then sink under the thin covers of the bed.

Leyla had been in shock.

- Not because he wasn't speaking to her or looking at her - she was used to that by now. No, this was because of what she could smell on him. Or rather, inside him.

Her blood. The Lady Kahtrina's. He had fed from her, nourished on her blood. He had tasted her and now Leyla was invisible in his eyes. Lady Kahtrina's blood was obviously richer and more pure, better than her own. And that hurt. More than what Leyla thought was possible.

She had curled up on the bed and silently cried herself to sleep that night. She didn't know if the Dralan had heard her or if he fell asleep as soon as he landed on the pillow. She could imagine how exhausting it must be to have the whole of two females to now drink from. Oh, the struggles he was facing.

Leyla had grown bitter. She couldn't stand the sight of the Dralan anymore, didn't want anything to do with him. He had clearly written her off, so she should just do the same. He was drinking from her now, so what was the point in even trying anymore? It wasn't like he needed her, even if he said he did. He had her blood now.

Speaking of blood, that night before the Dralan had returned, Leyla had felt the stinging in her throat come back. She had been sewing when it happened and it was like someone lit a bonfire in her throat. She had drunk some water to try and stop the burn, but of course it didn't help. It took nearly an hour before the stinging faded a bit, but she knew it would be back. And soon.

Leyla knew her feeds were the last thing on the Dralan's mind. He wasn't even thinking about her anymore, she could tell. He was all about the Lady Kahtrina now. That's why he was pulling away. He didn't want to be in the same bed as her, that's why he was lying as far away as physically possible. He didn't want anything to do with her. He didn't care about her anymore.

Therefore, Leyla knew she would either have to take her drinking into own hands, like last time, or keep ignoring it until she collapsed from thirst. At least then, maybe he would acknowledge her - remember that she was still flesh and blood and needed it to survive.

But until then, Leyla would do exactly what he was doing to her; ignore him. Even if it meant risking her life.

Three days. Three long, whole days passed exactly like that first night; He'd wake up before her, sneak out quietly to avoid waking her up and maybe having to talk to her. He'd then be gone all day and only return late at night, after Leyla had dined alone and gone to bed after a full day of doing nothing.

And now she had had enough.

So that morning on the third day, when she woke up by the sound of him strapping on his weapons belt, she pretended to still be asleep so he could sneak out without having to face the courtesy of glancing at her. She waited until the door closed before she sat up and looked around in the foreign bedchamber that felt no more comforting than it did yesterday. Or the day before that.