Damon kept his gaze fixed on her, absorbing each word as if it were being forcibly engraved somewhere too deep to be erased later.
"Never drink blood."
The phrase echoed in his mind with a weight that didn't match Elizabeth's calm tone.
"Many bad things," he repeated softly. "That's a very… open warning."
Elizabeth smiled slightly, but there was something weary behind the expression.
"It's the best kind of warning," she said. "Specific ones are usually ignored."
She brought the cup to her lips again, drinking calmly, while Damon felt his own stomach clench—not from ordinary hunger, but from that strange, selective thirst that seemed to pulse in sync with his heart.
"So what do I do when this…" he made a vague gesture toward his chest, "…this starts to tighten?"
