Chapter 2

Safe?

Too hungry. Go out. Dark.

Food.Food. Where? There. Catch it. Kill it. Eat.

The first gush of warm, sweet blood washes away the heaviness from his head, and Niall almost throws up when he realizes what he’s eating. Stray dog. He likes dogs, damn it. But it’s working. His arm’s knitting up, the flesh regrowing where he tore out chunks with teeth sharpened by desperation. Healing. He’ll need to eat again soon, though. Regeneration takes energy.

Damn that kid. It’s been yearssince Niall had to resort to chewing on his own arm.

He could hit the meat market, but one look down at himself rules that out. He looks like—fuck, he looks like he got stabbed in the chest and then rounded off the night with a messy meal of dead dog. Too much fucking blood. He must stink like an abattoir, but he’s past smelling it.

Mariabella. That’s who he needs. Leaving the tangle of bones and fur, Niall lurches to his feet.

He figures he won’t have to worry about pretty boys hitting on him tonight.