Chapter 37
I’m quick through the night, holding Ember until I get us to my townhome on Burgundy street.
I glide Ember down my body as I shut the door behind us and Ember glances around my oldest home.
“Another house?” she questions.
“To be fair, I bought this eighty years ago,” I reply, cupping her face.
She’s still here. She’s stillher.
I would have never forgiven myself if I lost her or if Oz would have changed her against her will.
She grabs my wrist and squeezes. “Are you okay?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” I say, and she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry my selfishness brought you here. I wish I was a better man and that I could let you be free of me, but I can’t. Every day, I’ll try to be better for you, but I can’t do that.”
“I don’t want you to,” she whispers.
I clear my throat and look away from her for a moment. Nothing I’ve done in my life has led me to deserve her, yet she wants me anyway.
When I turn back to face her, I push her hair out of her face, cupping both sides of her chin. My thumbs rub against hersmooth, soft skin. She already had some blood on her face, and I only added more by touching her.
I glance down at myself, realizing that I’m covered in blood, and sigh.
“Let’s go get cleaned up?” I ask, not knowing how to say the words that are spiraling in my head.
That I love her, that I can’t imagine a world where she wasn’t in it. That my life is meaningless without her. But how, at the same time, I feel like I’m going to be the root of everything horrible in her life. It’s an endless cycle of self-loathing and endless selfishness.
I lead her down the hallway, starting the shower and undressing myself. It’s a massive glass rectangle with no door and I step in, needing to get the evidence of the night off me.
Red-tinged water swirls down the drain as I look at my feet and I finally let myself feel the fear of what could have happened.
I’ve felt pain. I mourned my ma when Oz changed me and again when she passed, but nothing could ever prepare me for what it would feel like to lose Ember.
I just need a minute to calm down, to accept the reality of everything that happened. That she’s okay, that Samantha’s okay, that Oz is actually gone this time.
The spray hits my shoulder blades and hair as I lean against the tile, red staining the perfectly clean white tile.
Is that what I do to Ember? Stain her? Hurt her?
I meant what I said. I’m too selfish, too obsessed to let her go, but is that what I should be doing?
Hands wrap around my chest, her bright pink nails in view as she rubs my chest.
“Hey. We’re here, we’re okay,” she says.
She’s the one assuring me.
What in the fuck is happening here? I should be the one comforting her, assuring her that we’re safe now. Which Isuppose we are. Oz is actually gone, Joyce is out of the picture, and her friend seems to have a true handle on the Slayer. Not to mention my progeny is fucking the leader of the vampire council.
Yet, there’s still this lingering fear in my gut over how fragile Ember is, how she could be taken away from me at any moment.
I turn in her arms, giving her more access to the shower, since I don’t feel cold. Her wet hair plasters against her magnificent body as water driblets drip down her skin, Oz’s blood washes away.
Her hands are still on my chest as she looks at me inquisitively.
“I’m okay, Warin,” she assures me and I lick my lips.
