Page 89 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

My fingers curled into his chest, nails scraping lightly at his skin. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

“You would die for me,” I said.

“Yes,” he answered simply. “But more importantly, I would live for you.”

Something inside me cracked.

I leaned my forehead against his, closing my eyes as emotion surged through me like a wave.

“Con,” I whispered, “you can’t just call me your bride and expect me not to fall apart.”

His hand slid down my back, drawing me closer. “You don’t have to fall apart. You just have to believe it.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that word.”

“You don’t need to be ready,” he murmured. “You only need to know that I am.”

I opened my eyes, meeting his.

“Con?”

“Yes.”

“I’m still scared.”

“So am I,” he said. “But I’m not leaving.”

My breath trembled as I exhaled. “Say it again.”

He cupped my face with both hands. “In all the ways that matter, Cass… you are my bride.”

My heart stuttered.

“You are the one I choose now and in every lifetime. The one I would fight for, bleed for, live for.”

His thumbs swept across my cheekbones.

“And the one I would risk every consequence to save.”

My voice broke. “I don’t want to lose myself to your blood.”

“You won’t,” he said softly. “And if you ever come close, I will be there. I will anchor you. I will give you a choice, even if instinct tries to steal it.”

I tucked myself into his chest then, fingers gripping his skin as if holding onto something vital.

His arms wrapped around me instantly.

We lay there in silence, my cheek pressed to his heart, his breath stirring my hair, the weight of everything we’d said settling over us like a vow spoken in the dark.

I wasn’t ready to be his bride.

Not yet.

But for the first time, I could imagine it.

Not as a sentence.

Not as a chain.