His dermaglyphs pulsed all over his body, the skin markings flooded dark with the colors of intense hunger. "Shit," he hissed tightly, as fresh pain slammed his gut and he dropped to his knees on the hard, polished floor. Doubled over and panting, he crossed his arms over his shredding stomach and bit back the groan that curled deep in his throat. His ears rang with the sound of his own blood racing through his veins, the pound of it practically driving him mad. He leaned forward to plant his cheek and brow against the cold stone beneath him until the agony passed, simply concentrating on breathing in and out, in and out...
God help him, but his blood thirst was back again, worse than ever. It had been pecking at him like a raven on carrion for the better part of the morning, the only thing that had kept him away from Claire when she and the other two Breedmates had been leaving to begin their daytime intel-gathering trip for the Order. Fortunately for him, most of the warriors and their mates were in the tech lab now or in their private quarters--a small mercy, as it would have only added insult to an already unbearable injury should anyone happen to see him in such pitiful condition. Summoning every ounce of his will, Reichen forced himself to his feet and began an unsteady shuffle out of the corridor. He was near the weapons room, as it turned out, the darkness of the empty facility welcome as he dragged himself inside and collapsed against the nearest wall. He slumped there, exhausted and wretched, his breath rasping through his bared teeth and fangs. He might have slept for a few seconds or even an hour; he had no idea how much time had passed before the soft whisk of the opening door jolted him awake and the lights of the firing range lit up all around him. Reflections bounced off the mirrored glass of the training area, and through the bleariness of his vision, he saw that Tegan was standing near the door, his hand just now coming away from the light switch. The warrior muttered a ripe curse and something about d?j? vu, but Reichen's brain was too beleaguered to try to comprehend his meaning. He sat there in misery, growling a warning for the other male to leave him alone. Tegan scoffed and took a couple of long strides toward him instead.
Piercing green eyes bore into Reichen with a cold brand of understanding. "Feeling about as shitty as you look, I take it." Reichen swallowed, his throat too parched for words. He glared up at the Gen One he considered a friend, his vision swimming from the steady pound filling his head. He caught the downward flick of Tegan's gaze, knew that the warrior could read his agony in the churning colors of his exposed glyphs. "That blood you took in the city a couple of nights ago should have held you long past now," he said, his deep voice flat as hammered steel. Tegan's jaw went tight, nostrils flaring slightly with his indrawn breath as he crouched down on his haunches in front of Reichen. "How long has the thirst been dogging you?" He managed a vague shrug of one shoulder. "All day... it never really let up, even after I fed."
"Fuck." Tegan ran a hand through his loose tawny hair. "You know what this is, don't you?" Reichen grunted, let his eyes fall shut when his lids got too heavy to keep open. "It's because of the pyro," he murmured thickly.
"The fires ease up ... then the blood hunger sets in. Happens every time." "And every time it happens, the hunger gets worse," Tegan said, not even close to a question. "Shit, Reichen. It might be the pyro bringing it on, but what you're feeling is the first whiffs of Bloodlust, my man. You haven't fallen over the steepest ledge yet, but you're heading there fast. And you know damn well that's what's going on, don't you?" Reichen attempted to deny it with a shake of his head, but Tegan was no fool. When Reichen looked up into the warrior's face, he saw bleak understanding there. Hell, he saw a male who'd tasted this same blinding thirst himself. A male who, from the grave look of him now, was still haunted by the memory of an even deeper blood addiction than the one Reichen battled each time his pyro overtook him. He wanted to ask him how he'd fought it--how he'd won against the fierce thirst that could turn even the strongest members of the Breed into savage killers--but just then his gut gave another violent twist. He snarled with the spasming pain, his limbs contracting in on his body. "Breathe through it," Tegan commanded him. "You gotta be stronger than the thirst. Don't let it own you." Reichen did as he was told, willing to grasp at any advice if it would help alleviate some of his agony. It took several minutes before the worst of it passed. Once it had, he nodded weakly, relieved by the sliver of peace that followed the pain. "Tell me about the pyrokinesis," Tegan said when Reichen huffed out a breath and dragged himself up to a sitting position. "How have you managed it so well until now? Hell, we've known each other off and on for the better part of a couple centuries, and I had no clue about your ability." "I'm not proud of it," Reichen murmured, an understatement if ever he'd uttered one. Tegan's expression was sober but not condemning.
"You think I haven't done things that I regret? It's hard to walk through even a year of life without hurting someone or something when you didn't intend it. If I started telling you about all the shit I've done wrong or wish I could take back... trust me, we don't have that kind of time. So, why don't you go first. Tell me about the pyro." It might only have been the warrior's way of distracting him, enticing him to talk instead of anticipating the next round of agony, but whatever Tegan's motives, Reichen found himself explaining how he'd lived most of his life with no knowledge of the curse that lurked inside him. He told Tegan how he'd first come to discover the fires through Roth's treachery some scant thirty years ago ... and how abhorred he'd been to realize for that first, godawful time what his pyrokinetic heat would do to anyone careless enough to get near him. "I killed an innocent young girl, Tegan. In mere seconds, she was so charred I couldn't even recognize her as human." He felt sickened all over again--not from blood hunger but from a profound self-loathing that hadn't dampened and likely never would. "After that, I was determined to never let my power surface again. And I worked damned hard to make sure it didn't.