Page 25 of The Vampire’s Ballerina

He’s not wrong. I was a bitch. I was rude to my fellow company members. I kept everyone at arm’s length. I was a circle of one. It had been the same in every company before this too. I shut everyone out so I’d never have to say goodbye. It was the only way to protect my heart.

Until Haven. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t resist the urge to open up to her. What began as a tenuous alliance slowly turned into a genuine friendship. And once it did, it unleashed something inside me. Haven’s friendship unearthed a version of myself that longed for connection and laughter and love.

“I didn’t understand why you were the one whose blood called to mine.” Peter’s whisper breaks through my reminiscing. “I ignored it, thinking the call would eventually fade. But then… you let your walls down. You let others in. I got to know you, and I fell for you. Hard.”

“So it’s not only because of my blood? Because of the draw you feel?”

“You tell me, Imogen. Do Haven and Wesley love each other because of their bond, or does their bond deepen the love they felt even before they knew they were mates?” Peter cups my face, a cheeky smirk tugging at his lips as he continues testing me. “And if it was only because of your blood, I would have claimed you right away, consequences and bitchiness be damned.”

He’s right. It’s so much more than that for Haven and Wesley, and it’s the same for us. Everything makes sense now—why the pull towards him was so strong, why nothing and no one ever felt like enough after I met Peter. Some instinctive part of me—my soul, I suppose—knew my blood was meant for him, that we were meant to share this life together.

“Now, after all that’s happened, I realize why you’re my chosen. Your soul is a mirror of mine. You don’t shy away from the darkness in this world—in me. You embrace it. You’ve embraced me and all that I am without fear.” Peter holds my gaze, remorse and worry shining in his eyes. “Are you upset with me for keeping this from you?”

“No. I understand why—at first—you didn’t tell me. But I’ve known the truth about this world for years now, Pietro. Why did you wait so long to pursue me?”

“I didn’t want to force any of this on you. And I wasn’t sure we’d be able to have a relationship without me marking you. But once I realized you felt the same, I knew it was futile to resist you any longer.”

He confesses so many things, but only one of his explanations—one phrase—sticks out to me.

“You—” My face scrunches in confusion, and I sit straighter so he’s no longer holding my weight. “You don’t want to mark me?”

Peter stares at me, and his silence is answer enough. My throat tightens, and my eyes itch. I push him away, standing even though my body trembles and my heart feels like it’s about to shatter into innumerable microscopic pieces. I cross my arms in front of my stomach and face the now dying flames. Like the hope in my soul, they shrink and flicker in and out of existence, with little left to fuel their mesmerizing dance.

I think of my friends, of Haven and Wesley specifically. I remember how excited she was in the days leading up to when he could finally mark her, how it was all she could talk about, how Wesley couldn’t wait to put the physical proof of his claim on her neck.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that romance, that level of love and connection, does only exist for werewolves.

I choke back a sob, my breath shaking and lip quivering. “Is that why you were so hesitant to feed from me? Because you don’t want to mark me?”

Peter’s fingers curl around my upper arms, his chest brushing my back. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I want to mark you as mine more than anything.”

“But?”

He spins me to face him, gripping my upper arms again, his eyes sharp and focused. “But in order for me to mark you, in order for us to complete our bond, I have to turn you.”

I stare at Peter as I process his words. “Turn me?” My thoughts tumble around in my head, my heart racing a mile a minute. “You’d have to turn me into a vampire?”

“Yes. That’s why I was hesitant to drink from you. I was afraid I’d get so caught up in it all that I’d lose control and mark you. And if I mark you, then you’ll become a vampire too.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” My voice is weaker than I want it to be, but I push through it. “I want you to mark me, Peter. I don’t care if that means I have to be a vampire. If I’m your mate, or the vampire version of that, then I want everyone to know. I want to be yours, Peter.”

His throat bobs, and he keeps staring at me with that same intensity in his eyes, that same sharp focus, like a predator assessing its catch. “You are mine.” He slides his hands down my arms. “Mark or no mark, vampire or not, you will always be mine.”

“But not completely.”

“Turning isn’t as simple as I bite you, you become a vampire, and then you continue with your life,” he says. “You won’t be able to go in the sun for a very long time. You won’t immediately be able to mask your red eyes, you won’t have control over your speed and strength to hide yourself and blend in with humans. It takes time to develop resistance to the sun and control over your abilities.”

“How long?”

“It varies, but at least a century for you to be resistant enough to the sun to be outside for any length of time during the day.” He pulls me closer, sliding his hand around my neck. “You’d have to give up your position in the company, Imogen. You’d have to disappear. I can make everyone forget about you, or we can… fake your death… but your life as it is now would be over.”

“Everyone?” I ask in a whisper.

“Not your friends. Not the werewolves or Ramón. But everyone else, yes. Your family. Anyone you’ve ever been close to who isn’t aware of our existence.”

“Well, the only person I’ve ever been close to besides Haven and the Crescent Lake pack members is my nanny, Nicolette. She was more of a mother to me than my own. And she passed away years ago.”

“I’d still have to make your parents forget about you.”