Devour Read Online Free

it behind me. After plugging my iPod into the small set of speakers on my desk, I collapse on the bed and listen to the beats. The blood high is still in full force and my mind wanders as I lay there.
    Chase will not leave my thoughts. I’m intrigued by him. Even though my common sense understands that he’s a mere human and nothing I should concern myself with, my mind can’t stop going there. It is some kind of personal hell to have him invade my thoughts like this because I can’t figure out what is so different about him.
    If there was a way to wish the thoughts away, I would. I definitely should try. Rules are rules for a reason. The humans can’t find out about us. If they did, we would be in utter chaos. It would become a witch hunt. It makes me shudder at the idea of being hunted like we hunt the humans.
    I can’t deny the way it felt when we touched or kissed. My stomach is fluttering like a million caged butterflies just thinking about it. The feeling when we kissed had a strange kind of intensity. It makes me wonder what it will feel like when I find my mate. Hopefully, it is way better.
    In an attempt to forget him, I force myself up off the bed and rummage through my dresser drawers until I find an old tank and shorts to paint in. As nice as it would be to lie in bed, it is no way to spend my night.
    I start by placing a new canvas on my easel and mixing my paints until there’s a variety of bold pinks, blues, purples and yellows. My desire right now is to create something intense and emotional. Driven by the blood high, I take a deep breath and the brush makes its first stroke on the canvas in a thick yellow line.
    Impressionism is , by far, my favorite style of art. I love the brush strokes and how they bring the painting together to make a whole scene. It has always been a wish of mine to have been alive when impressionism was at its peak.
    Shaking off my musings, I refocus on my work. The song has changed and the melody washes over me. I begin to paint a scene with one stroke, and then another, until I have some semblance of an idea what I’m painting.
    My creative side is always stronge r during a blood high, so that’s when my painting is the best. Using a varying method of brush strokes, I’m rewarded with an amazing piece.
    I’ ve painted a little girl picking a daisy out of a never ending field of white daisies. Her face is so innocent. The sun is bright and the flowers are beautiful. Stepping back, I admire my work. Satisfied, I find an empty spot on my wall and hang it up amongst my other works of art.
    My walls are cove red from floor to ceiling with my better works. One could get lost in a sea of colorful, impressionist art. Sometimes, I sit for hours and take in the memories associated with each work and why it’s special to me. It never fails to give me perspective. 
    Still feeling a little keyed up, I pull out my yoga mat and begin t o stretch my lean muscles. I’ve been doing yoga since I was coordinated enough to accomplish it. It’s practically second nature for me, but it gives me a certain level of peace that I can’t find anywhere else.
    I t’s hard not to wonder what Jane would say if I had confided in her about tonight. Would she freak out, or admonish me for even thinking about breaking the rules? Maybe she would just lend me a supportive shoulder to lean on.
    As much a s I’m dying to tell her everything, my Mom’s reaction stops me. I couldn’t drag Jane into anything that suggested danger. It was not even safe to gossip about things like that. The whole thing could be misconstrued and I could end up in front of the council for it.
    Because I’ m royalty, I have a more important duty to my fellow vampires. They turn to us for leadership. We set the example for our whole community, as well as the cities outside our walls. All those vampires see me as a role model. Since I’m female, that makes me even more coveted and will help ensure our race continues.
    I know it