~Serah POV~
"Lady Serah."
I stirred awake at the sound, my head heavy, throat dry. The cold from the stone floor had crept deep into my bones and my chains clinked as I moved, each sound echoing off the damp walls.
"Lady Serah, it's me," came a whisper.
I blinked toward the faint glow of a torch. "Maribel?"
"Yes." Her voice trembled. "I brought blood for you."
She knelt beside me, hands shaking as she passed a small silver flask. I caught her wrist before she could draw back. "You shouldn't keep doing this," I said weakly. "They'll find out."
"I don't care."
"You should," I murmured, though I still lifted the flask, the smell made my fangs ache. I drank greedily... hot, thick, metallic. It burned and soothed at once.
Maribel watched with wide eyes. "You were starving," she whispered.
I wiped my mouth. "Yes, I haven't eaten in days."
A pause stretched between us before she spoke again. "Tristan was here."
I froze. "When?"
