But if she gave me the chance, I knew I would have to act fast and claim her before she changed her mind and realized exactly how much of a lost cause I was.
Her breathing hitched, chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm as though she knew my intention to devour her. She could deny it all she wanted; her words were at odds with how her body reacted in my presence.
“I swear on your life,” I said, holding my palm up as though taking an oath. “I played no part in Elios’ decision to stay.”
She crossed her arms. “That isn’t comforting,” she mumbled.
I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. “And why is that?”
“Because,” she stammered, fighting for words she could not conjure. It was the one thing she could never accuse me of. Despite all my mistakes, I had shown time and again that I valued her life above all others and would continue to do so until I took my last breath.
I stood, catching her off guard with the sudden movement. She stumbled back to escape my proximity, but I reached out to steady her. I wrapped my hands around her waist, loving how she nervously glanced down and swallowed. “Becausewhat, wife? Because you think I do not care, even though I have done nothing but grovel since I saw you in that dingy basement? Or do you not want me to care because that would be an easier lie to tell yourself?” My hands dug into her soft, pliant flesh, and I tightened my grip against her feeble protests.
Give her space, give her time, but do not let her go.
Though it may not have been in the way Elios expected, this was me doing just that. She could not run from me for once, because I would not let her go. I would force her to have a conversation with me, and if she still wanted to walk away, I would give her space to form a decision.
But now having her here, in my room, in my arms, I knew I would struggle with even that.
“You’re full of yourself,” she said, but the fight was dying from her eyes. She wanted something just as severely as I did, though I was unsure exactly what that was.
The theories ranged from my head on a spike—most likely—to forgiving me for every awful thing I had ever done—least likely.
At least at the moment. I held on to hope for a future where forgiveness was still a possibility.
This close, I could count the freckles lightly stretched across her nose. I longed to lean in, to kiss each one and murmur my adoration across her skin. How she looked up at me through thick lashes with those green doe eyes threatened my resolve.
I must have a death wish, I thought as I leaned in, brushed my lips across the shell of her ear, and whispered, “I have missed your anger, love. But not as much as I have missedyou.”
But what a lovely way to die? I could think of no end more fitting.
She froze at my admission, her hands resting atop my chest. Our breaths came in quick synchronous pants. The moment seemed to stretch, both of us standing in limbo, either from shock or obstinacy.
In that glorious time, a truce, so to speak, I let hope soar. I let myself believe that our fight was done, that she would let me love her the way I ached to from the beginning.
“Don’t call me that,” she said, trying, but failing, to add bite to each of her words. Holding my gaze proved difficult for her, and I watched with great pleasure as she fought to stay in this game we played.
“Call you what?Love?” I asked, tilting my head. “Would you rather I called you my wife? That can be arranged, as it is easily my favorite.”
“I’m not your love; I’m barely your wife.”
“And whose fault is that? I have tried owning up to each of my mistakes since I saw you in the cellar, but you have yet to apologize for the fact you jumped out a fuckingwindowand let me believe you dead.” She opened her mouth for a rebuttal. I waited, giving her whatever time she needed to craft an argument in her defense. But in the end, there was none. She knew there were apologies owed on both sides and while she was more than happy to hear mine pour from my lips, she refused to allow me the same.
I tightened my grip on her waist and brought my other hand to her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Hold me accountable for what I have done and will do wrong in the future. Push me, yell at me, fight with me, but do not put the weight of your wrongs on my shoulders, for I cannot bear it.”
“Are you saying I don’t own up to my mistakes?” she asked, intentionally focusing on the one aspect of my words she could pick a fight with. When she pushed at my chest, I kept my hold. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Let me go.”
“No,” I said sharply. I was no longer in control of my actions. Panic had seized control at the thought of her leaving this room. If she would not listen to me in this room, she would not hear me anywhere.
Perhaps it was as terrifying to her as it was to me. It was easy to hang on to a grudge, to pretend I was a soulless monster, rather than accept a different narrative. But this was my chance, and I would not let it go to waste. I would fight like hell to make her see reason. I could only accept defeat when IknewI had lost.
“Let. Me. Go,” she hissed, wriggling in my grasp. Her breathing accelerated, the skin along her cheeks flushing a delectable red that piqued my vampiric attention. All that blood brought to the surface in either fear or anger… It would taste all the sweeter.
I could sense her need, though she fought it well. Her arousal always paired well with her rage, and I was reminded of a similar encounter not long ago.
“Do I make you angry,wife?” I asked, brushing the tip of my nose with hers. She let out a breathy little moan that had me pressing her body closer to mine. I wanted her to feel how hard I was for her, how desperately I wanted to claim her and mark her as mine once more, and not stop until I had filled her with my cum.
My hands balled in the fabric of her shirt, pulling it down enough that I caught a glimpse of the scar my bite had left on her breast. Seeing it there, marking her beautiful, creamy skin, nearly had me falling to my knees. There is no magic in this world or any other that could remove it; it was made permanent the moment my venom flowed into her veins.
