Page 98 of Fang Fiction

“Callum?” Tess asked, and he opened his eyes. Her tone sounded serious. “If we do manage to get back to New York…do you think, I mean. Would that be the end of this? Of us?”

“Why? You think a rake like me would move on the second he got back to a city with millions of other women?” He was just teasing, but her face fell.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Tess.” He drew her close, kissing her hair. “In all my lifetimes, I’ve never let anyone in—really in—except my sister, and maybe Nantale a bit. But you understand me in this way…”

“What way?” She looked up at him.

“It’s like your book says—like I’m this villain, right? I always embraced that. When people were afraid of me, I liked it. Because if they were afraid to come after me, it meant I was safer, and so was Vee. But you see this other part of me. This vulnerable part, the part I always thought of as weak. Except with you…I feel strong. Like letting you see every side of me, like that’s tougher than all that other bit, if that makes sense.”

“It absolutely makes sense,” Tess said, her voice choked. “I didn’t expect you to be so good. After…what happened to me. Maybe I never expected anyone to be good again.”

“Tess.” He felt pained.

“No, it’s okay. Because in a way, I think that was easier, you know? To just write everyone off, to never have to risk anyone doing that to me again. But in another way, I was running too. And being with you—it’s made me see that maybe I don’t want to run anymore.”

“I don’t want to run from you,” Callum whispered.

“I know you don’t.”

Tess leaned her forehead against his.

“I want to ask you something,” she said—and he could sense she was nervous, her pulse was speeding up.

“What is it?” He rubbed the pressure point on her wrist, trying to soothe her.

“You’re not back to full strength yet, right? Since your injury?”

“Are you saying you find my current level of strength dissatisfactory?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No.” She laughed. “I was thinking, for tomorrow. It would be better if you were stronger, right?”

“Tess, what are you getting at?”

She lifted her soft, fluffy sweater over her head, so that she wore only jeans and a bra.

“Feed on me,” she said.

“What?” Callum was so shocked he almost choked. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“But I can’t—” he sputtered. “It’s too dangerous, I haven’t fed in a decade. If I can’t stop myself, I could hurt you—or worse.”

“But you won’t.” Tess cradled his face in her hands. “You won’t, because I trust you. Callum, you’ve helped me so much—”

“You’ve saved my life. Twice,” he countered, and Tess laughed.

“Yeah, fair enough. But I want to do this for you, okay?”

He loved the way she looked at him, like he was worthy of her trust. Like despite everything he’d ever done, he was still a good man.

“Tess, are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” she said. She leaned in and kissed him, and he drank in the taste of her, the feel of her warm mouth, her soft body. She leaned her neck to the side for him, but he shook his head.

“Not there,” he said.