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Chapter Eleven
~Victor~
"I remember everything," Claire whispered.
We were once more seated at the dining room table in my old home, as we'd done the night she was taken from me. The table was littered with candles and empty wine glasses, as if a party had just dispersed around us.
"Does that make you happy?" I asked her, praying that she was as pleased to remember me, as I was to have her remember.
"It does," she assured me. "But also sad. Because now there is an ache inside of me that wasn't there before. I miss you. And yet I don't even know you."
"Things will be clearer once we are reunited," I promised her. "When I can truly hold you in my arms again, the past and present will meld, and we will be as we once were."
“But how will I reach you?” she asked, her fingers sliding across the table toward me.
“You know where I am,” I assured her, taking her hand in mine and watching as arcs of light danced over our skin. I could almost feel her touch as if it were a real, tangible thing once more. I was ready. Ready to return to her. To be the mate she deserved. “Come to me, Claire. Come to me now.”
