Page 74 of Nightshade

I decided to ignore my smarting pride and hope that the truth wouldn’t send Altair running into the woods never to be seen again.

Ow. A sharp pain lanced through my . . . through the scar. Like it was a real and current injury, and not a fully healed mating mark. I put my hand to it, and turned to look at Altair, who was—well, he’d gotten off the ground and was looking at Prudence as though she’d said something unexpected and wonderful.

“Passionate?” he asked, his voice small and hopeful. “Ivan”—he glanced back at my brother, nervous, but then steadied himself and turned to Prudence—“Ivan said vampires don’t have emotions. Not . . . not real emotions.”

Prudence gave a short, sharp bark of laughter. “Did he? He sounds like a prince of a fellow. But no, nothing I’ve ever read indicates that. My research says that vampires are exactly what they were as humans, just . . . more so. If they were happy as a human, then as a vampire, they’re exuberant. If they were angry as a human . . . well.”

Understanding lit Altair’s eyes, and he rocked back on his heels. Then he frowned and turned to look at me. “But I still hurt you. I—” He reached out toward my neck, as though to touch the scar, but stopped when Viktor gave a growl.

I glared at my brother and stepped into Altair’s space, taking his hand and putting it on my neck. “You didn’t hurt me,” I confessed, voice quiet, pitched for just the two of us. Sure, the rest of the listening pack could hear it, but it wasn’t for them. It was for us. “It’s not an injury. It’s . . . it’s a mating mark. It’s not there because of anything you did. It’s there because of how I feel. About you.”

CHAPTER 38

Altair

At first, I couldn’t make sense of anything Prudence was saying. Losing his brother to love? That word, “love,” didn’t exist in my lexicon. It was like a blank spot in the middle of the conversation.

The facts remained—Viktor was losing his brother to something, and it was my fault—but the how and why were unclear.

Hazier, when I saw the bite I’d left on his neck and knew that I’d hurt him.

It was the worst feeling in the world, the guilt that twisted through my stomach at the thought that I’d hurt him. We’d been together. He’d let me bite his smooth, gorgeous neck, and drink from him. In return, I’d left a scar.

Just the idea of hurting him when he trusted me with so much of himself reminded me too much of Ivan. A lance of ice stabbed through my dead heart at the thought that I was just like him, that Viktor was right to be suspicious of me.

No matter what I wanted, I was always going to be a monster.

Even when Prudence said he’d been wrong, it didn’t change anything.

What did was the warmth of Leo’s rough palm cradling the back of mine. As he stepped closer to me, I swayed toward him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, that I’d never do it again, that he didn’t need to be afraid of me.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t look afraid. He looked . . . nervous, sure. A little resigned. But he pressed my hand between his and the mark on the side of his neck. It was hardly raised and already smooth, and beneath it, his heart beat as strong as ever.

I hadn’t done anything terrible. I hadn’t lost control of myself and torn him open. But I still needed the reassurance that he was there and safe before I could take another breath.

He said I didn’t hurt him, but that clearly wasn’t true. My brow furrowed, but I didn’t interrupt him. He was speaking softly and I didn’t want to make him any more nervous than he was already.

It wasn’t Viktor putting him on edge. Clearly, he was willing to go toe-to-toe with his brother.

And then, he said the most impossible thing.

I stared at him as the bottom of my stomach dropped out.

“How you . . . feel about me?” I croaked, voice scraping up my throat like it was made of sandpaper.

Leo swallowed and ducked his head, like he couldn’t quite commit to a full nod.

His heartbeat jumped nervously beneath my palm. His lips stretched, thinning as he bit them between his teeth.

He was nervous, because he felt for me.

It was stunning, like getting hit by rigging and flying overboard into the deep, unfathomable ocean. He wasn’t afraid of me, not in the way I thought he should be.

He—

I surged forward and my hand slipped up, curling around the back of his neck to draw him down as I pushed up on my toes. I kissed him, and his plush mouth gave beneath mine.

I didn’t shove my way inside and hastily plunder what I could before he could think better of this. I just kissed him, pouring every ounce of feeling I had into it.