“When did you know what I was to you?” I ask.
This question has him shifting in his seat, he’s uncomfortable, but nods, knowing he has to give me an answer.
“Your twenty-first birthday. You came to my bar looking fucking innocent and perfect. The only person I ever told about having a blood mate was Samantha. I’m not sure why I told her. Maybe I thought the witch was full of shit and that it wasn’t going to actually happen. But Samantha, she believed it, so when she saw a pretty, naïve witch in line at a vampire bar, she brought you to my office. I was suspicious that Aster sent you, or that you wanted some of my blood. But in reality, I think you were seeking me out, something deep in you knew you were fated to me.”
“And why don’t I remember that?” I ask him. I already know the answer, but I need him to say it.
“I compelled you to forget. You told me your name, and I tasted your blood. I knew what you were to me, but I also knew that, to keep you safe, I had to keep you far away from me.”
“Why?” I croak as I look down at my finger that’s tingled so many times I’ve been around him.
Warin stands, his speed human-like as he approaches me as if I might run away as he cups my face, his hands cool and comforting.
“Oz would have killed you, and I knew you’d be fine without me. It was more important that you were safe than for me to have the thing I wanted most in the world.”
“But you indulged,” I reply. “You watched me from afar. You kept tabs on me.”
“I did. The bat in your shutters?—”
“You can turn into a fucking bat?” I say a little too loudly and Warin smirks, shaking his head.
“No. My familiar, Betty, she kept tabs on you. When I could, I would watch you, make sure you weren’t getting into trouble.”
“Why didn’t you come and find me once Oz was dead? You waited until the Slayer attacked.”
His thumbs stroke my cheeks. “Don’t ever doubt that I haven’t wanted you every single moment in the last century. The moment I found out I had a blood mate waiting for me, I never touched another. The second I tasted your blood, I never drank directly from a human again. My devotion is only to you, Ember Hallow, and everything I’ve done has always been because I thought it was in your best interest. The only reason we’re here right now is because I’m inherently selfish. I thought I could stay away, that I could do what was best for you, that I could protect you from me.”
He leans forward, his lips nearly touching my forehead.
“I told myself that I’d ruin you, that you were far too kind to be tethered to a wicked creature like myself. Then Baptiste was murdered, and I saw an opening. Oz was dead. You were in danger and I took the opportunity in the only way I knew how, manipulating you into an arrangement where you needed to spend time with me, hoping you felt something too. I watched you for years, but being around you? Fuck, Ember. I’m greedy, and self-serving, but I couldn’t let you go.”
I swallow thickly, looking up at him, feeling nothing but true honesty falling out of his mouth.
“You feel it too, just a little bit?” he asks, seeming the most insecure I’ve ever seen him.
I grab his wrist, squeezing tightly.
Despite myself, despite what would be easier, I also feel this connection. I nod and place my head against his chest. His hand cradles the back of my head and I sigh.
How is it that a vampire’s arms are the ones that make me feel safest, and why is it such a relief knowing that something isn’t wrong with me? All these years I’ve been fascinated with the beings of the night, and now I finally find out why.
It was fate, not something wrong with me.
Warin is gentle as he pets my hair, a complete juxtaposition to the man I watched stake a vampire for talking poorly about me. He holds me close, a comfort I haven’t had in a long time, and I just lean into his strength.
“I never meant to deceive you. All I ever wanted since I learned about your existence is you,” he whispers in my ear.
I want to be mad about the time lost, the time we could have had together, but then I realize how long Warin waited for me.
“There was really no one since you found out?”
“No. Never,” he promises.
I rest my ear on his chest, which is eerily silent. I let out a sigh as I play with the lapel of his jacket.
“This doesn’t magically solve our problems, either. This is going to take work. There’s so much to figure out. I-I want to make this work, but that’s going to be a big ask. I won’t leave my coven. I’ll always be a witch,” I say.
Warin doesn’t stop his petting, which he’s truly great at.
