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He pulled away, gently setting my bathrobe back in place and the disappointment overwhelmed me. I covered my face and rolled away from him, the volatility in my range of emotions grating on my nerves. On some level, I knew this was a normal part of the transition between being mortal and turning into an immortal monster.
“You don’t have to be a monster,” he said with his back to me. “It’s a choice.”
I didn’t see how, not with the waves of hunger that kept knocking me senseless. Without elaborating, he got up and left me alone in the bedroom. I reached up and pulled the pillow from under the covers, hugging it. Burning tears choked my throat and I nuzzled into the soft down with the sweet taste of his blood still in my mouth.
Exhaustion settled in and I closed my eyes.