There was nothing merciful about the way he was bitten. It was worse than Matthew could have imagined: hot, searing agony as his skin was punctured and Arius’s fangs sunk into the tissue and muscle; a cruel, prodding tongue that worked the skin and pulled at the tears, wrenchedat them; and a ruthless sucking that felt like it would pull everything inMatthew’s forearm out. The seconds that Matthew was able to suppress the sounds threatening to come out of his throat were not nearly as satisfying as he would have hoped. Then he gave himself over to the pain—the fear, the sense of violation—and with his body shaking and his muscles as hard as stones, he started to cry.
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