Eleanor rose up, her eyes wide, expecting to see anger in his eyes, but instead, she saw only hunger. She swallowed hard, searching deeper only to see a glimmer of fear.
The realization dawned on her. Ares wanted her to leave because he craved her blood.
"A... Ares," she stammered, her voice trembling as she struggled to calm her racing heart.
Ares sat up, his movements labored, and staggered towards the window, wisps of blood-red mist escaping his body. He grasped the curtains, closing them with a grunt, plunging the room into darkness.
It had been an eternity since Ares teetered on the edge of death, and just as long since he felt this ravaging hunger that threatened to consume his sanity.
As he released the curtains, his breathing sharp and ragged, the scent of Eleanor's blood wafted up, taunting him. His fangs lengthened in response, aching with need.
