His fist locked in her hair, ripping her head back from the wall only to slam it forward again. Blinding pain exploded behind her eyes.
“Did you allow him to fill you with quantities that rival the flooding of the Nile?”
She trembled, knowing from experience, the more fanatical Silus grew, the more he quoted scripture, the fouler his moods darkened and the more dangerous he became.
“Silus, please…”
“Please, what? Go ahead, Larissa, beg me for forgiveness, and I shall help you atone for the disgrace you brought to my home.”
She whimpered, and tears reflexively flooded her eyes as he jammed his knee hard into her thigh. Her legs buckled and he tackled her to the ground. Her eyes bulged as his weight knocked the wind out of her, and his hands closed around her throat.
“Stupid female, you belonged to me first.” His grip tightened and her lungs seized. His eyes dilated, and she feared he wouldn’t stop until he ripped her head off.
She clawed at his face only to have him jerk her by the throat and slam her head hard against the floor.
“You’re not so proud now, are you? The Lord shall cut off all flattering lips and the tongue that speaketh proud things.” Spittle rained from his lips as blood vessels ruptured in her eyes and clouded her vision.
“How do you think your bishop will like you without your whore mouth and serpent’s tongue?”
She wrenched his hand away and sucked in a crippling gasp. Her windpipe was crushed and hardly any air could pass. Her punctured lungs frantically tried to breathe.
His fist slammed into her cheek and heat bathed her face as blood poured from her nose. She choked on the flood of metallic pain as it closed the small opening in her throat.
“For it’s the blood that makes atonement for the soul, faithless witch! Nothing but a bitch in heat!” His fangs extended and his jaw gaped wide. “I come to do thy will of God!”
His fangs punctured her ravaged throat, burning her flesh with gnawing force, and she silently screamed through the pain. He drank violently from her, spilling her vein as he tore at her throat, as if intent to drain her dry. Her strength waned and her heart fluttered with each fading beat.
Her blurred vision darkened to shadows as her senses feathered away. The delicate trace of memories grazed her mind and she clung to the feeling of happiness she’d momentarily known with Eleazar, certain this was her end.
An explosion vibrated the walls, like the thunder of a grandfather oak crashing through the house. Excruciating pain ripped through her as the flesh of her throat tore open, and Silus’s crushing weight vanished.
Vicious growls and snapping bones collided with the scent of ripping flesh as agonizing screams bellowed over her gasping coughs. She rolled to her side, wheezing and gasping for air, but it was not enough.
Strength depleted and anemic beyond measure, she surrendered to the numbing darkness and let go.
Chapter 39
“Drink,” Eleazar’s command rasped past his lips in a broken plea as he cradled his mate’s lifeless body in his arms. “Please. You must drink.”
He pressed his open wrist to her mouth, tipping back her ravaged throat, as he shook with uncontainable rage. Her throat was crushed and ripped open and her head lulled in an unnatural manner.
Blinking hard against the uncertainty that threatened to break him, he swallowed against the lump in his throat and reopened his vein. Without her feeding, the wounds would be slow to heal and her suffering unbearable. Only her immortality kept her tethered to this world when her ravaged body so clearly wanted to stop functioning. She needed blood.
Jaw clenched, he coaxed her mouth open and let the healing blood trickle in. “Just a little swallow.”
He worried that the slightest touch might cause more damage. He should have never left her alone. He should have kept his mind open. He assumed she would have waited for him, but he’d been wrong.
Mouth pressed tight, he fought back tears. “Why did you leave without an escort? I told you to wait for me.” He shook his head, unable to accept that this was it. “Stubborn female, I order you to drink!”
Her lashes fluttered, and a weak sigh breathed over his flesh. Her brow tightened as she attempted to swallow.
“That’s it, my brave and beautiful lion, try to swallow. You’re so strong…so strong.” His throat closed around his voice as his eyes took measure of the damage. He’d never dreamed of seeing her so weak, and he’d give anything to restore her strength. “You’re not a mouse,” he whispered. “You’re my brave Larissa and I need you to fight, now. I need you to come back to me.”
Once a few drops made it into her system, her strength improved, but she was still incredibly weak and battered. Her skin took time to mend. He helped things along by using his tongue to heal what he could. The gaping wound at her throat was wide enough to expose the bone of her clavicle and the gnarled pink pulp of torn tissue and shredded muscle.