Reia’s cheeks warmed at his pet name for her. He only ever said it occasionally, but it always made her stomach clench with a strange emotion.

It happened now, and her brows twitched when she felt a twinge of pain. It was fleeting, but her insides spasming had sent a wave though her.

“We still need to make you better with your sword. You’re not very good, Reia.”

“It’s hard, okay?!” she shouted with a laugh. “I’m not used to swinging a sword around. It’s tiring.”

“I cannot say the same. It feels as though I have picked up nothing more than a stick.”

“Well, I’m not big and strong like you are.” She reached forward over the table to grab one of the small animal bones, wincing when her abdomen pressed against the hard edge, before reclining back onto her feet on her chair. “You know, when I get good with a sword, I’ll make you...

Orpheus?”

Reia paused when his eyes flashed to crimson red right after she finished tying the bone to the end of her trinket to complete it. His hands slapped against the table before his claws embedded into it.

“Why do I smell blood?” he growled, his shoulders and arms bunching with tension.

“I’m bleeding?”

Reia raised her forearms to check them, finding no wound.

She raised on her knees to check her body and legs, then felt an uncomfortable squelch between her thighs.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped when she saw him shudder.

Okay, we have a problem. A big fucking problem.

“D-do you know what happens to women once a month?”

she asked, seeing he was growing more agitated by the

second.

He was starting to shake his head, making that rattling sound, as if he was trying to rid himself of his thoughts or a fog.

White flashed in his eyes before they swiftly turned back to red.

“Yes.” He stood so suddenly his chair scraped across the ground noisily and almost tipped over. “I must leave. You are not safe with me.”

She watched as Orpheus practically bolted out of the house with the door slamming shut with a loud bang as he closed it behind him.

His final words to her were, “Stay away from me, and do not leave this house.”

Well, shit. Reia probably should have put thought into what they should do when she got her period. She knew he reacted to blood, knew it made him strange and hungry, but she’d forgotten about it completely.

Like merely realising she was going through her monthly cycle conjured it, Reia groaned, hugging her mid-section when she felt a terrible cramp assault her.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

OceanofPDF.com

Reia grumbled when she sat on the human-sized living room chair that she’d dragged to the window to watch Orpheus sitting outside just within the salt barrier. He was cross-legged with his back to the house.

“Well, this is totally shit,” she complained to the air.

She’d managed to get the fireplace going by herself, could feel it, and yet the house was unbearably cold. It was because she was alone and had been alone for three days.

Being locked inside while the ground dried had been difficult, but at least Orpheus had been able to come inside and spend time with her. The boredom was hard, but now that she was used to him being around constantly, having him completely and utterly gone was upsetting.

Don’t tell me I’ve become attached to him? To his voice, his scent, to his mere presence. To those glowing orbs that conveyed so many emotions and she barely understood half of. To the way he took up all the space, leaving Reia very little room to feel alone.

He was there, right past the window, and yet it seemed like there were miles between them. I haven’t felt this lonely since I was a kid.

For a few years after her family died, Reia had felt that way, but she’d grown to accept her life. She wore it like a

badge and persevered, refusing to wallow since she’d known the villagers weren’t going to keep her company. She had learned to keep herself content, despite her misery.

Now that she’d experienced the overwhelming comfort of being looked after, cared for, and treated like she was something precious and to be treasured rather than a cursed disease, she felt a sense of loss at no longer having it.

I’ve become a pampered brat.

He didn’t even come inside to wash her of her scent. What was the point? Her blood was drawing Demons closer regardless.

On the first day, she’d seen that Orpheus had carved a second salt circle just in case. He came inside after a little while, but he didn’t say anything, and she could see his chest was unmoving like he was holding his breath.

He’d grabbed everything he needed. The jar, the spike, the trinkets that they’d made, and then he’d immediately left.

She knew he was also doing the same thing each morning, when she woke to find a bucket of food at the door as if he’d just pushed it inside and left.

Today was the worst day. It was early morning as she sat by the window, wishing she could go sit in the sun.

She was using wads of cloth to stem the bleeding within her underwear, had been doing so from the beginning, but she had to change it regularly. She threw all the bloodied cloth into the blazing fireplace, burning it to destroy the evidence and scent.

She was bleeding heavily, and her cramps were utterly terrible. She’d even started crying over it. She was hormonal and in pain and just started weeping pathetically.

She was tired and felt bloated.

Despite the few Demons outside, Orpheus wasn’t chasing them away. He was just sitting between the salt circles, doing nothing but shuddering. Today was the most intense.

It was like he could smell her from a distance, and his endurance was waning.

Fuck. How have any of the other woman survived past this? And then it hit her; she doubted any had.

She laughed. That was a rather cruel joke. Be born a woman who had to deal with the annoyance of bleeding once a month, and then oops, a Duskwalker eats you.

He’d once told her that he was no longer looking for a bride, but merely a companion. Was that why he’d allowed men to be offered? They wouldn’t bleed. Perhaps he was hoping he could ease his loneliness with a friend he wouldn’t be tempted to eat once a month if he couldn’t have a bride.