“That’s a strong bond, Ezra.” Her eyes sparkle. “Why would you want to turn it off?”
“If he wants to tell me what he’s thinking, he can tell me. He deserves privacy,” I explain.
“Heis sitting right here,” Declan says, squeezing my hand.
I turn to face him. “You deserve privacy.”
“Privacy is a human construct, darling. Much like shame and religion.”
“Mom.”
“It’s true.” She shrugs and reaches for her glass, lifting it to her lips and taking a drink. The blood residue on her top lip is thick, and she glides her tongue out to lick it off.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat?” she asks Declan, and I can hear it in her voice; the suggestion in her tone.
“Stop it.” I slam my palms on the table and shove my chair back. It flies across the floor and bangs into the wall. A picture frame rattles, and I lean over the table and point at her with a trembling finger. “You can fuck Henry, or Elijah, or whoever you want, but not him.”
“Alright, darling.” She sets her glass down and turns toward my father. “He’s in love.”
“I’m what?” I stammer, looking from her to Declan with frantic eyes. “No, I’m not.”
She gives me a small nod and another coy smile. “If you say so.”
“I just met him. I don’t even know him.”
“Soul mates, darling.”
A wash of calm comes over me and I look down at Declan and I know it’s from him. He holds my stare and smiles up at me, this small and understanding look, and then I actually feel calm myself.
“You did that on purpose,” I whisper.
Declan peels my fingers away from the table and drags his lips across them, pressing kisses to the pads of my fingers.
“There’s nothing to be upset about. You can love me if you want to.”
Idowant to, and that’s the problem. It’s ridiculous. I’ve known him for a week, but we’ve spent less than forty hours together. I can feel Declan in me, like he’s a part of me now that I can’t shake and I want to love him, and that’s absurd.
“Not a dinner conversation,” I mumble.
“You two should go have some time together before you need to get some rest. The first month is extremely trying on your bodies. You need to make sure you…hydrate.” With that, she finishes off the contents of her glass and stands, reaching for my father’s hand.
“Go for a walk?” he asks, standing and smoothing her sleeves down her arms.
“Lovely.”
“We’ll speak soon, Ezra, about what is expected of you now,” my dad says.
“Give them their space, William,” my mother chides and pulls him out of the room. I don’t move until I hear the front door open and close.
Declan stands up, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me close. He starts humming that song from the fountain and I relax under his attention. He smiles against my neck and presses a kiss there.
“She was right.”
“About what?”
“That you love me. I can feel it when you look at me.”
“That’s lust,” I correct. “Or the blood, or something.”
