“Me too.”
I join her on the couch, keeping a careful distance between us.Not because I don’t want to be close—God, I always want to be close—but because every time we touch, every time I breathe in her scent, the monster in me wakes up hungry.
For a while, we just sit there, the only sound the whisper of Tessa breathing.Outside, the last of the daylight bleeds away, and the temperature drops another ten degrees.I can feel the cold pressing against the windows, can sense the vastness of the wilderness surrounding us.
We’re alone out here.Truly alone.
It’s both the best and worst thing Blade could have done.
“Vex?”Tessa’s voice is soft, hesitant.“Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
She takes a breath, her fingers tightening around her mug.“Tell me the truth about your past.About the worst things you’ve done.”
I wasn’t expecting that.
My first instinct is to deflect, to give her some sanitized version that won’t send her running.But when I look at her, I see determination in those eyes.She’s not asking out of idle curiosity.She’s asking because she needs to know who I really am.
Monster and all.
“Why?”I ask instead.
“Because I need to know if I’m making a mistake.”She meets my gaze steadily.“I need to know what I’m choosing when I choose you.”
The words hit me like a blow.Notifshe chooses me.When.
I set my untouched tea on the coffee table and lean back, staring at the exposed beams in the ceiling.Where do I even start?Five hundred years of mistakes, of hunger, of blood?
“I’ve killed people,” I say finally.“A lot of people.Some deserved it, there were slavers, murderers, predators.But others...”I close my eyes.“Others were just in the wrong place at the wrong time when the hunger was too strong and my control too weak.”
Silence.I wait for her heartbeat to spike with fear, for her to edge away from me on the couch.
She doesn’t move.
“The worst was Catherine,” I continue, the name tasting like ash.“1867, San Francisco.I thought I could control it.Thought I could feed just a little, keep her safe while still being close to her.”I laugh, but there’s no humor in it.“I was wrong.The bond deepened every time I fed, and eventually, it killed her.Drained her life force until there was nothing left.”
“You loved her.”
It’s not a question.
“I did.”The admission hurts.“And it wasn’t enough.Love doesn’t stop a vampire from consuming what they claim.If anything, it makes it worse because you can’t stay away.”
I expect her to recoil now.To see the truth of what I am—a monster who destroys everything he touches.
Instead, Tessa sets down her mug and shifts closer.Not away.Closer.
“I’m not her,” she says quietly.
“I know.”
“And you’re not the same vampire you were in 1867.”
“That’s what Prophet keeps telling me.”
“He’s right.”She reaches out, her fingers finding mine.The contact sends electricity racing up my arm.“You think I haven’t seen the way you hold yourself back?The way you stop yourself from touching me even when you’re shaking with the need to?You’re not some mindless predator, Vex.You have more control than you give yourself credit for.”
“Control has limits.And you—” I turn my hand over, lacing our fingers together.“You push every single one of mine.”
