Page 76 of His Darkest Desire
“Kinsley, you are wounded!” Flare said with alarm, flashing bright.
Shade and Echo made soft, concerned sounds, and all three wisps flitted before her, their ghostfire flickering.
She furrowed her brow. “What?”
“Your lifesblood.” Flare gestured frantically toward the blanket beneath her.
“And on the back of your dress,” added Shade.
Kinsley looked down. There, bright red against the blue fabric, was a patch of blood. Setting down the tote, Kinsley grasped her skirt and twisted to look behind her. More blood stained her dress.
“Oh no,” she groaned. She lifted her skirt and bent over. Sure enough, crimson was smeared on her inner thighs. “Damn it, I should’ve known.”
The bloating, the cramps, the lower back pain—all the signs had been there, but she’d dismissed them.
Thank God I have some tampons in my purse.
But those wouldn’t last long. Kinsley smirked as she lowered her skirt. How would Vex react if she were to ask him to conjure up some menstrual products?
Flare darted back and forth through the air, ghostfire bristling. “We must hurry to the magus before she loses more blood.”
“It’s okay, Flare,” Kinsley said.
Echo’s little body trembled. “Flesh bleeds when wounded. Wounds are bad.”
Though embarrassment colored her cheeks, Kinsley laughed. The sound was a little louder than she’d anticipated; only then did she realize that the birds had fallen silent. She shook off the unease that slithered into her.
“It’s not a wound…” She scanned their surroundings. It must’ve been a trick of the shifting sunlight, but everything seemed dimmer. She looked back to the wisps. “This is perfectly natural, I promise. It’s often an…inconvenience, like now, but it’s normal.”
The wisps exchanged looks that were decidedly skeptical despite their lack of facial features.
“It is normal for humans to bleed without a wound?” asked Flare.
“Yes. It’s, uh…” Deep breath, Kinsley. “It’s part of the reproductive cycle. It happens every month when…when there’s been no conception.”
“It is no wonder your kind is so short lived,” said Shade.
Kinsley smiled despite the reminder of what she could never have. “We don’t normally lose so much that we bleed to death.”
Something moved amongst the trees at the edge of her vision.
Heart quickening, she turned her attention in that direction, seeking the source of the movement. The fog had unquestionably thickened, having pooled in every hollow and depression. A chill raced along her spine.
Nothing animals were in sight.
It was probably just a deer or a rabbit.
Please, just be a rabbit.
Why was she suddenly so paranoid? Why was she filled with a sense of dread? She’d spent so much time alone in forests familiar and unfamiliar, and never once had she experienced this inexplicable fear.
“This one does not understand,” Echo said. “Why must humans bleed if—”
“Hush,” Shade rasped.
A breeze swept through the woods, rustling the leaves and carrying a scent to Kinsley, faint but disturbing—the scent of rot. Of death.
“This mist…” Flare said.