Hades
It tasted like... nothing. The food was unpleasant ash on my tongue, and swallowing it was as easy as gulping down a boulder. My skin crawled as the cooked steak scraped its way down my throat.
Nausea seized me the moment it hit my stomach, my hand slamming down on my mouth as I gagged, the force of disgust making my whole body lurch.
I dropped my utensils in frustration, the clattering resounding through the room. My hands remained shaking from the hunger. Appetite for food had evaded me since the truth had come out, and now not only did food taste unappealing—it had turned completely inedible.
I craved something else, a craving that had been there before due to a lycan's hybrid vampiric nature but had now accumulated immensely into a visceral ache that echoed in every nerve: bloodlust.
I needed blood. Not bloodwine. Blood unfiltered and unaltered, straight from the source.
