Page 100 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

It takes me a long time to climb to my feet, and I stumble into the shower, turning it on.

“Who are you?” I mutter as warm water rains down over me. “What are you?”

It’s a question I’m not certain I want to know the answer to as I eventually turn off the shower and grab a towel. My actions are automatic, functional, as I dry myself off and step into my bedroom, pulling on my discarded pyjamas.

Then I hear it, a pain-filled groan.

I spin around, the wet tendrils of my hair whipping across my face as I search the room.

My gaze falls on the door of my walk-in wardrobe. It’s slightly ajar. The light within turned off.

I hear another groan, softer this time.

My throat constricts as I stand rooted to the spot. Every single cell in my body vibrates with fear.

“Edie.”

Dorian’s voice drifts through the gap, and I stiffen. He’s still here.

The man who fucked me, who made me come. Who bit me. Who drank my fucking blood. He’s still here.

Self-preservation kicks in. I stumble towards the knife I’d discarded last night. Snatching it up, I curl my fingers around the handle and hold it out in front of me.

I know I should leave. I should run.

Instead my feet carry me forwards.

Reaching for the door, I pull it open. Sunlight spills into the space, pooling on the floor. Dorian is tucked into the corner, my clothes shoved aside as he curls against the far wall. He’s naked still, crouched low, his arms hugging his knees, his face turned away from me.

“What the fuck?” I exclaim as he trembles violently, his bare foot slipping into the pool of sunlight. It instantly turns a deep red, the skin blistering and bubbling, oozing yellow puss that dries up and quickly turns black as his skin literally burns. The stench of cooking flesh, once again, makes me gag.

He hisses, then he drags his foot closer, out of the pool of light, and right before my eyes, his skin starts to heal. The blisters knot together. The blackened skin turns to ash, drifting to the floor as the violent red beneath fades to pink, finally returning to his natural colour.

“What are you?” I ask, my voice barely audible above the chatter of his teeth and the low, painful whimpers that are coming from him.

“It hurts,” he bites out, turning his head towards me.

I gasp, my hand flying to my chest at the sheer agony etched into every line of his face. Gone is the blood-red that had leached into the whites of his eyes last night. His canine teeth are no longer sharp. All I see is a man begging me with his whole body to help him.

“The sunlight?” I say, barely able to comprehend what I’m asking as I back up, reaching for the handle of the door.

“Yes. That and—” He shudders, and I swear I can see his tattoos shift beneath his skin.

“What is happening? How is this possible?”

“Please, Edie,” he begs, trembling so hard his teeth start to clack.

I don’t take my eyes off him, the soft click of the door shutting making me almost leap out of my skin. All that’s left is a thin line of sunlight seeping through the gap beneath the door. He lets out a shaky breath, and I reach for the light switch, turning it on.

“What are you?” I repeat, my back sliding down the door as my legs give way.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says, slowly drawing upright, his arms falling away from his shins as he groans.

Dark circles bruise the skin beneath his eyes as he twists his body, turning to face me. He’s barely able to lift his hand as he swipes it over his face.

“Won’t or can’t,” I say, holding the knife up between us. It shakes in my hand and I grit my teeth, forcing strength into my body.

“Both,” he says.