Page 44 of His Eternal Temptation

He opened his eyes. “I should ask Cecile why she came to see me.”

“She said it was handled. Why not leave her to it?”

Something wavered inside Rowan. “I can’t give up control over everything.” Did he sound like a fool? Lane didn’t even know what he was really talking about.

Lane laid his arm along the back of the couch, bringing the two of them closer together and nearly cradling Rowan, but not quite. He had a curious look, interested, not invasive. “Is that what this feels like? Giving up control?”

Rowan studied Lane in turn, not in a hurry to answer. Lane seemed different. His confidence hadn’t gone anywhere, even though they weren’t in the club or fucking. Maybe this was who Lane was when he wasn’t fighting to prove himself. Rowan wanted to grab hold of him and say, yes, be this man. Don’t listen to anyone who shoves you aside.

And yet, what was Rowan doing if not shoving Lane aside? Ignoring him and his offers of help, even when he needed it. Wanted it.

Rowan hated being another person who underestimated Lane and resolved not to be. For both their sakes. He wanted someone to lean on, and Lane was sitting here asking to be his support. Rowan could take this step even if it wasn’t easy.

He closed his eyes. He wasn’t pretending to be strong when he didn’t feel it. “I’m falling apart. It’s the hunger and feeling useless. Not being able to hunt the ferals’ sire or beat the curse. But it’s also the dreams.”

Lane swallowed, barely audible to Rowan’s enhanced hearing. “Why do you think dreams of your past are surfacing now?”

He opened his eyes. “I don’t know. You mentioned killing my sire, and now he’s lurking in my mind.”

Lane flinched. “I’m sorry, I⁠—”

“I’m not blaming you. That came out wrong. If my past…issues were resolved, I wouldn’t fixate on them. Killing Cris doesn’t bother me. You bringing it up isn’t the problem.”

Rowan had considered his trauma dealt with when it had only been avoided. He had to do the unthinkable and talk about it.

“It must be a combination of everything. The curse. Feeling responsible for the feral vampires…” Being tempted by you to have things I learned not to want because they scare me. Instead, he said, “Stress is getting to me, and it’s triggering old feelings.”

“It’s okay to admit that,” Lane said, nothing but soft in his acceptance.

Rowan almost snapped, yes, obviously I know, but did he? “I suppose you understand not wanting to admit your shortcomings.”

Lane smiled, a little sad. “I do, but at the same time, they aren’t actually my shortcomings, they’re my father’s. His judgments. Stress is human, Rowan. Having a difficult past and feeling whatever way about it is human. Not failure.”

“I’m a vampire,” Rowan couldn’t help pointing out. “Not a human.”

Lane rolled his eyes. “I meant it as in the human condition—humanity. I’m a witch. Would you say I can’t relate?”

“No,” Rowan grumbled, feeling chastised even though he didn’t think Lane meant it as a rebuke.

Lane flashed another tiny smile. “Then give yourself the same grace you give everyone else.”

Rowan had never considered it in those terms. It was frighteningly simple. He helped people, but if they never asked, afraid—as he was—of being let down, where would he be? If Lane were the one fighting tooth and nail against leaning on him, he’d want to shake him until he saw sense.

Lane stared at Rowan with unwavering determination, the picture of someone he could trust and depend on. The picture of everything Rowan longed for.

He gave in.

Rowan shifted, melting against Lane’s side like Lane had been offering him a hug this entire time. Maybe he had been because his arm came off the couch to hold Rowan without hesitation.

Rowan’s heart sang. “Don’t hurt me,” he whispered, face angled up, commanding Lane’s attention. The request must’ve seemed out of nowhere, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

Lane brushed a thumb over Rowan’s lower lip. “I won’t. Never on purpose.”

Butterflies swarmed Rowan’s chest, his sire’s presence fading from his mind, and he let his deepest desire break free. “Take care of me?” It was as needy as it sounded, and fear roared back with a vengeance. “For now,” he amended, losing his nerve.

Before he could go further and recant completely, Lane brushed his thumb over his lips once more. “I’ve got you.” His soft smile shone with confidence, maybe even pride. Like he wanted this and wasn’t scared to go for it.

At least one of them wasn’t a nervous wreck.