Esme, who, petrified, he still had his eyes on the victim gasping on the ground and I was clinging to his clothes to rise again.
I had been bitten once again.
now would come the excruciating pain, the fire that came to power in the veins and tore, continuing its way to my heart.
now would come the end, it was only a matter of moments.
I looked down and only then I had seen: a bleeding wound, and rubbed my button right wrist, while scarlet rivulets dripping my scar where there was so hated and so precious. The cold half moon that was always on my wrist was cut by scalpel-sharp teeth and was now unrecognizable, deleted from that new bite.
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