Chapter 219

 Even my fated mate didn’t want me. Yet I was hoping to see the Vampire God again, just once, so I could ask him if he’d indeed come for me in that damned lab building.

My mind replayed the longing in his eyes as if by doing so I could find comfort in this cold, damp cell, as if I could deceive myself and hope that someone out there might truly want me.

Eventually, sleep came. For how long I didn’t know, but when I woke, my muscles ached.

At the sound of footfalls coming toward my cell from down the corridor, I crouched low. Part of me came alive, like a shark smelling fresh blood, but the other part had shut down due to my fatigue and anxiety.

Someone had come to fetch me for my execution. There’d be no last meal. No trial. This could be a secret execution.

I didn’t bother to move until I saw who stood in front of the bars, regarding me solemnly.

A smirk split my face, but I didn’t rise to meet Shade, unlike how I’d bounced up when Danielle and the girls had showed up. I didn’t want him to see my wobbly legs if I stood, so I sank to the floor instead, my legs crossed.

“Canary,” I breathed in a cheerful tone, “did you come to sing for me? It has to be free since I’m short a few coins.”

“Very funny,” he said. “Glad to know you’re still so entertaining.”

My eyes trained on a brown bag in his hand. I couldn’t help it, as a delicious smell wafted from its contents.

He shoved the package between the bars toward me. “Brought you burgers, chips, and drinks.”

 “Toss the bag over here, will you?” I asked, my smile still ghosting my lips.

He gave me a weary look, but at least it wasn’t a pitiful one. That was why I always liked him.

He bent, placed the brown bag on the ground, and shoved it toward me.

I grabbed it before it reached my feet and peeked inside. I licked my dry lips. The good prince had brought me a bottle of apple cider as well. It was my favorite Martinelli’s brand. I inspected the rest of the contents before I flashed him another grin.

“You even got me pickles? I’ll eat them last though.”

I was so thirsty that even my soul felt dry. I tore off the lid and drank half the bottle of juice.

“Easy, Catnip,” Shade warned. “If you drink like that, you’ll get sick.”

Then he stopped himself. I already looked sick from starving and having nightmares. At least my eyes were no longer swollen. I could look at his handsome face in full view.

“Worry about yourself, Canary,” I said, quirking a brow at him. “I’m doing swell.”

At least he had called me Catnip, signaling his good mood, which meant he probably had better news.

Things were already looking up. First, the prince came instead of an executioner. Second, I got a meal. Then a dark thought crossed my mind. Maybe this was Shade’s way of saying a final goodbye.