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Chapter 391
Last Updated:
2025-01-28 03:51:27
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The Vampire King's Feeder Chapter 392
MichaelFaye’s room is chaotic. Nurses and the physician crowd her bed to the point I can’t see her through the fray. I push through them, seeing her pale and writhing, arching off the bed in pain. “What’s wrong with her?!” I shout. Faye murmurs, white foam tinted with blood bubbling from her lips
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MichaelAlma and Lowe speak in quiet tones in the foyer while he helps her into her thick coat. The usual, ceaseless sprinkle of rain has finally turned to sleet–a vicious mix of freezing rain and the first hints of snow that’s going to make the village an icy mess when day turns to night. Lowe pus
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MichaelThree hours later, in the dead middle of the night, I stand in the doorway leading into the cozy guest room I brought Faye into what must have been weeks ago. I guess that much time has passed since then. It feels like seconds, honestly. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to catch my breath
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“What did they do to you?” I press. I wave my hand at the mess of jars, herbs, and healing… potions, not just tonics. Actual potions. Potions made by a witch.“What didn’t they do is a better question,” she murmurs, turning away. “Emelda–”“I was a girl,” she whispers over the simmering water and c
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MichaelI pace the foyer, running my fingers through my hair over and over again as I listen to the voices of Emelda and Alma drifting down the staircase. Lowe walks in from the kitchen with an armful of firewood, his face drawn with fatigue. I nod at him in greeting as he walks past me toward the
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EmeldaMichael has officially lost his mind. I edge closer to the bed, the vial I hold trembling as I raise a shaking hand. “You can’t possibly know that for sure. It’s too early. Far too early.”He looks down at the nearly dead vampire in the bed, his eyes wide and glossy with shock and the last gl
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MichaelLowe spins his pint of beer in a circle, his eyes scanning the run-down dive bar and its grizzly patrons. He wrinkles his nose when a duo of rough looking vampires walk by, baring their fangs at our table. “It stinks here,” he says under his breath before sipping from his glass. “The beer’s
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Michael Emelda moves like an agitated fledgling as she dusts lint from my shoulders. She swats my hand when I reach for my hair, shaking her head and scowling before adjusting a single rogue curl trying to fight against the hold of the hair gel she slathered through my tresses. “Don’t move. Don’t
Last Updated : 2025-02-07
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Emelda“Thank you,” I say, hurrying at a near run as a maid takes my cloak. The castle is buzzing with nervous energy but remains quiet with even the maids tiptoeing around, trying not to make a sound. I’d remained in Ravenfell for the birth. I spent all night and most of this morning at Alma’s hou
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FayeSomething’s wrong. Something has to be wrong. “You’re doing great. Keep pushing, Faye. You’ve got this,” Alma says, her face glistening with sweat and determination while I roar in pain. Michael clutches my hand, his other hand bracing my inner thigh as I bear down with all the strength I hav
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Michael“It could be hours–or a day,” Alma says quietly as she arranges her tonics on a table just outside the bedroom where Faye’s finally getting some rest. “It’s been hours already,” I tell her, motioning toward the window in my suite in the castle where moonlight drifts through the panes, casti
