#Chapter 92: Birthright

Rowena Eric and I sat beside each other at the table. Our mother and father sat across from us; our father leaned on his elbows, pinching the bridge of his nose, and our mother pensively stirred her coffee with a spoon. Everything was silent save for the clinking of the spoon against the mug. It had been quiet like this for some time; none of us even knew where to begin or what to say. It had been two days since Eric had drank my blood, and finally, the doctors had let both of us come home. Two days in one of those cells had left me feeling both restless and exhausted at the same time, and I was glad to be back in our mansion. Both Eric and I had tested negative for the Wolf’s Fury virus. Eric’s symptoms hadn’t returned in the slightest, and I never had any symptoms to begin with—because apparently I was immune. And now Eric was, too, thanks to drinking my blood. I still didn’t know how I had come up with that idea; perhaps it was just a last ditch effort