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He is flawless. Perfect, marble-like skin, messy hair that looks as if it were intentional, a black t-shirt that clings to his hard, muscled body. I know just how hard and muscled now, after laying on him. I still can’t understand how I am in a motel room with a vampire and we cuddled last night.

I would have thought that after everything I witnessed yesterday I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I actually slept better than I have in what feels like years. I felt so warm, safe and protected with him last night, which just makes me feel even more confused. I don’t know anything about this man – how can I feel like this?

I watch him for a moment. His expression is far away. Like he’s somewhere else entirely. There’s something in his stillness that reminds me he isn’t human, but this doesn’t scare me like it used to. It makes absolutely no sense.

A few days ago, I would’ve run screaming from anything with fangs. I was raised to believe vampires were monsters. Shadows that crept in through cracks in the world and sank their teeth into people like me. Witches, humans, other supernaturals, no one was safe from them, but now, nothing feels normal. Not him. Not me. Not the way my chest aches when I look at him, like there’s a string between us pulling tighter every time I breathe.

He glances over. Our eyes meet.

‘Hi,’ I eventually say, my voice thick with sleep as I comb my long strands back from my face, hoping I don’t look as dishevelled as I feel.

‘You sleep okay?’ he asks, voice deep and raspy, causing a shiver to crawl down my spine at the sound of it.

Nodding, I sit up, drawing the blanket around me. ‘I did, thank you. How about you?’

He shakes his head. ‘Not the best.’

I don’t know what to do to help him. I feel useless. Standing, I cross to the kitchenette, filling a glass with water just to give my hands something to do. I don’t like feeling helpless. I don’t like not having a plan.

‘It feels like we’re hiding. Waiting to be found. I don’t know where we go from here,’ I say, staring at the glass.

Theo doesn’t respond right away. When I look at him again, he’s watching me, his eyes softer than I expected, but his face is unreadable. I find it hard to guess what he might be thinking.

‘I need answers from you, Cupcake,’ he says, and his tone is serious. He seems so different now than when he was in the cell. It was as if he wasn’t quite taking any of it seriously, whereas now, he seems haunted and lost.

‘What do you want to know?’ I ask, turning and leaning back against the bench.

‘Everything,’ he says. ‘Start from the beginning.’

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before telling him everything – about being adopted by the witches, the war that began when vampires slaughtered the coven’s ancestors, the evidence of experiments we’d both stumbled across.

‘Honestly, they were all in on a big secret that I didn’t know about. I have no idea if they’re out looking for me right now. I do know if we’d stayed in Red Thorne they’d have been able to find me easily. Their magic is the strongest there.’

Theo looks thoughtful. ‘What have they told you? About your biological family?’

‘They said it wasn’t a good situation and they saved me.’

‘But they didn’t tell you details about anything?’

‘No. It seemed like a conversation they didn’t want to have. I tried a few times over the years and it was always dismissed.’

He turns just enough for me to see his profile against the faint glow of the morning light. His jaw’s tight, mouth pressed into a hard line. ‘Your adoptive family … did they ever tell you where you came from? Like specifically where?’

I hesitate. ‘Not specifically, no. I asked a few times when I was younger. But they’d just say I was better off not knowing. I do believe it was somewhere north-west from here.’

Theo watches me, something flickering behind his eyes.

‘Do you remember anything? From before?’

I shake my head slowly. ‘Nothing. Just … flashes. A forest, I think. A woman with dark hair. I don’t know if it’s real or something I dreamed.’

‘I get it,’ he says. ‘Knowing things are missing but not knowing what they are.’

I swallow the lump rising in my throat. ‘That’s exactly how it feels.’

His voice softens. ‘It’s like they didn’t want you remembering who you are.’

I look down at my hands. ‘Maybe I’m not supposed to.’