A/N: Second last chapter for the forseeable future and one more down~! I thank you for being patient with my stupid self and the last chapter will be uploaded hopefully right after this! All very short, but they'll be in the third installment alongside good ole' Max!
The blood had washed away from my body, no more rabid red sheen to my irises. Now, all I could do was slump beside the pixies' bed and whine. Canine sounds that filled the room made the pixie hybrid turn on his side, wriggling closer and flailing out his arms out to grab my hands in his. Even in sleep he tried to comfort me.
"Abergroft Eragon Tinson," I whispered, throat still raw from not using it for a week and a half. Sleep finally claimed me when his hands came up to rub through the short strands of my hair.
While I was busy glowering at the one and only Matthias, Septimus was busy curled up around me like the needy pup he was in these early hours of dawn. "What are you doing here, old man?" I asked, voice resigned. Taking a page out my now-realised mate's book was useful.
"Coming to see how you were. The blood you had... You need more," He told me, sure to remain in the light for me to track his thin lips. "At this rate, you will drain your pup of a mate," He cautioned. I felt my throat constrict in panic and began shaking him. He mumbled something and blinked his eyes open, smiling in a daze up to me. I'd taken too much.
Way too much.
Monster. Beast. Leech.
"Son," Matthias murmured from where he'd glided up closer to touch my quivering shoulder and I looked up to him, eyes no doubt close to tearing up. "You have heard of the effect of feeding off one of your own, have you not?"
"As a little Vampling, you were so rambunctious. You'd do so much reckless things, I went grey. I actually went grey because of you and your little adventures. Don't even get me started on the troll lair you had discovered on one of our camping trips!" He chuckled softly. "But you'd get sick often. It worried me so much that I did something not even my sire did for me."
I frowned, moving a little so that Septimus was lying down on his stomach and hugging the pillow instead of me, scenting it. "What do you mean?" I asked, curious now that I was this vulnerable. "I... I hurt him!" I choked, tears already dribbling down my cheeks, red tracks of blood that I was wasting.
"No, you didn't," Matthias assured, brushing them away with the tender swipes of his fingers. "He could take it, and he wanted to," He went on. "That mate of yours I approve of; he knows when you need to be fed and for that I am grateful. Had he been mortal, he'd have been dead the first time you fed off him in the truck."
I let out a snort because, of course this man would have known. He was always keeping tabs on me, but that would also explain the lack of attacking me when we'd been shoved in the cages with that cosmopolitan pack. "Son?" For the first time in three decades, I didn't snap and try to correct him. He looked so broken, more vulnerable than the malevolent Ancient had ever been. "I gave you my blood," He told me. "When you were a child; your hybrid status meant death by your sixth birthday; I couldn't have my own son die so... The bloodrage was the only way. I fed you my own blood, and kept doing so until your attacks stopped at the age of sixteen. You were always a hungry child," He gave a strained smile and I realised just how dangerous that had been for him.
For an Ancient to be giving his blood to his own... He could've died if I'd just taken a little more than I should have with the effects of willing blood and energy transference.
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