I hand him the plate, and our fingers brush.
Just barely.
Just for a second.
But I feel it like an electric shock straight through my core.
I pull my hand back too quickly, and from the way his eyes flare, he felt it too.
“Why are you being so kind to me?” His voice is soft. Confused. “From the world I remember... before...” His eyes go distant, like he’s trying to recall something from centuries ago. Maybe he is. “No one was kind to one another.”
I think of my parents. I wonder where they are and if they’re happy. If they ever think of me.
“There’s not a lot of kindness in today’s world either,” I admit.
“So why are you?—”
I shrug. “We all need somebody every now and then.”
“Who was your somebody?” The question is gentle.
My chest tightens. “My mother.” The words come out rough. “And my best friend, Sabra. There are good people in this world. It just takes patience to find them.”
His eyes soften. Lighten. “Well, it’s taken me a very, very long time for my path to cross with yours...” He gestures, clearly waiting.
“Phoenix.”
“Phoenix.”
The way he says it—slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring each syllable—makes something flutter low in my stomach.
“A perfect name,” he continues, his voice dropping, “for a perfect being.”
I laugh—nervous. A little breathless, actually. “Okay, smooth talker. Eat your bread.”
But I can feel the blush burning in my cheeks and my pulse kicking up.
He eats slowly, and I watch him. The way his throat works when he swallows. He closes his eyes briefly, like even simple bread is the best thing he’s ever tasted.
When he’s done, I take his plate and pump more water. The cabin feels smaller somehow. More intimate in the firelight.
“You should get some sleep,” I finally say. “You need rest to recover.”
“As do you,” he points out. “You’ve been taking care of me all evening.”
I wave a dismissive hand. “I’m fine. Vampires don’t need as much sleep as humans.”
His eyebrows rise. “You’re a vampire?”
“Close enough. I was born, not turned. Long story.”
He leans forward slightly, genuinely curious. “How does that work? I thought vampires couldn’t?—”
“Reproduce until they transform at twenty-five? Yeah, that’s the rule. Except I was born when my dad was still human, to myhuman mother. Then he transformed later. So technically I’m a vampire by blood, but I never had the turning.”
“But you’re young. How many turning of seasons have you had?”
“Nineteen.”
