Eternal Sin Read Online Free Page A

attempted to breathe through the waves of misery and depression threatening to consume her. “I’m sorry, Brodan. For acting like a complete asshole most of the time when you’re just trying to help me. I appreciate the offer. I just . . .”
    “Pets, look at me,” he said, his voice clear and strong through her haze. “Please.”
    It took everything she had to turn back and face him. He was such a great male, handsome and strong and caring. And if her luck didn’t completely run out, the male she would turn to when the balas was born. But, right now, if she continued to engage with him, be touched by him, scent him, she was going to bite him. Hard. And not out of hunger. Out of irrational anger. Her fangs were already dropping and saliva was pooling in her mouth.
    “Tell me what you need, Pets.” His eyes implored her. “You know I’ll do whatever you ask.”
    “Can you find a way to stop this?” she said, her tone pathetic even to her own ears. “Turn off this insanity inside me before I explode or lose my mind? Or gods help me, do something terrible. Hurt you or my family. I don’t know how long I can keep this anger and sadness and manic energy penned.”
    He reached out and brushed a few strands of hair back from her face. The gesture repelled her. Like every touch she’d experienced in the past week: her mother, her brothers, her best friend. It all made her recoil.
    Brodan acted as if he hadn’t noticed. He was also incredibly kind. And she was a great fool for not giving herself to him ages ago when he’d made it clear he wanted to be more than friends.
    “We’ve known each other for how long, Pets?” he said, his voice low and masculine but gentle.
    Petra forced a bleak smile. “Forever.”
    “And you’ve always trusted me.”
    “Of course. What are you asking?”
    “I want to try something.” He left her side and dug into his medical bag, which was propped up against some books on her dresser. When he returned he was holding up a bag of blood.
    Petra cringed, her insides recoiling, panic rushing through her. “I’ve tried drinking blood. I can’t make myself swallow it. And what I do manage to force down comes right back up.”
    “I know.” He gestured for Wen and Celestine to hold the bag and tubing. “I want to try putting it directly into your vein.”
    “Oh,” Celestine exclaimed. “That could work.”
    “Yes, indeed,” Wen agreed.
    Hope flared inside Petra, and she quickly pulled up the sleeve of her shirt. There was nothing she wanted more than to shut off these overwhelming feelings racing through her, controlling her. “Whose is it?” she asked him.
    “A combination of donors.” He swabbed the inside of her wrist with a square of wet cotton. “I want to see if you have a reaction to this first. If you do, we’ll give you the blood of each donor separately until we find a match.”
    “And if there’s no match?” She hated to ask the question, but couldn’t stop herself.
    Brodan gave her an encouraging smile. “Let’s not go there yet, okay?”
    She nodded, her breath hitching in her lungs. Please let this work. Please.
    With skilled fingers, Brodan quickly inserted the needle into the soft skin of her wrist, then followed up with a tiny plastic tube into her vein.
    She bit her lip. Not from the pain. There was barely any. Whatever little pinch occurred on her wrist was drowned out by another onslaught of emotion. Tears scratched at her throat and she gritted her teeth against them and silently screamed. She was so fucking sick of tears! She was not this weak . . . But even with the effort, the admonishment, the salty bastards still came. Bubbling up. Blinding her. Escaping. Sliding down her cheeks.
    In the moist blur, Petra saw Celestine, a cloth in her hand. The older veana leaned down and dabbed at Petra’s tears, while Wen whispered soothingly, “It will be all right, my Pets.”
    “Did I hurt you?” Brodan asked, his warm hand on her arm, his tone