SAGE

I woke up craving blood.

The awareness slid into me before my eyes opened, before my breath even found rhythm.

It sat on my tongue first—metallic, sharp, a taste that wasn't there and yet was. My mouth watered in a way that had nothing to do with hunger as I knew it. Not bread. Not fruit. Not even meat.

Blood.

The word pulsed through me, unwelcome and undeniable.

I lay there staring into the dark, my sheets twisted around my legs, my skin damp as if I'd been dragged out of deep water. My heart thudded hard enough to bruise from the inside.

I swallowed, once, twice, trying to...