Page 120 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“When you brought me here, Viktor told me something,” Edie begins, chewing her cheek, unsure whether to share.

“What did he tell you?”

She frowns. “I don’t want you to punish him.”

“Viktor’s my friend and has only ever had good intentions. I won’t punish him for it.”

“He said if I made you feel something for me, you’d find it in yourself to let me go. He said that’s the only way I’d survive. Was he right?”

Sharp pain flashes through me as I turn my head away, refusing to meet her gaze. “He wishes that were true.”

Edie steps closer, and with trembling fingers, she cups my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Was he right?”

My voice sounds hollow, fragile. “I can’t feel, Edie.”

“You do feel. You changed Logan and Viktor out of empathy.”

“That was different,” I reply, pulling away.

“How?”

“It just was.”

“Why?” she insists.

“Because it didn't hurt to care about them,” I blurt, stepping back.

“What do you mean?” she insists, moving towards me again.

I back up until I hit the wall, heart thundering. She doesn’t allow me any space. She invades mine like I’ve done to her so many times before. My voice breaks. “Edie, don’t.”

“You felt something in the car that night, didn’t you? That’s why you fought your desire to drink my blood, because you were protecting me. Then again, at the club, you did the same thing. I felt something shift between us, something more than just sexual attraction. I felt it. You did too.”

“Edie, stop pursuing this. I’m not human. I’m a fucking vampire. I drink blood. In the early days, I drained my victims until they died. I’ve killed people. I’m a killer.”

“That may be true, but you're also a man who feels. I know you do. After all, you didn’t drain me. You stayed that night because you were concerned about me. Keeping me here isn’t right. You know that.”

“I refuse to let you go.”

“Because you want my blood?” she shouts, shoving my chest.

“Yes, I want your blood. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything. Are you satisfied?”

“It’s more than that. I know it. You don’t want to let me go, not just because you want to drink my blood, but because you feel something for me.” Her voice rises in agitation, her beautiful face filled with anguish. “You’re afraid you’ll lose me, so you’ve chosen to keep me prisoner instead.”

“Edie, I can’t feel anything for you,” I roar, gripping her arms, needing her to understand.

“Tell me why.”

I shove her away, pacing the room. My hands fly to my hair, tugging on the strands. I hate what I’m doing to her. I hate I can’t let her go, that I can’t be a good man like Viktor, who refuses to hurt another person, or like Sybil, who has accepted her darkness and thrives on it, or even somewhere in between like Logan.

“But you do feel. You feel right now,” she shouts, rushing towards me, bashing her fists against my chest. Tears pour from her eyes with frustration, with anger, with hurt, with disappointment, and it kills me. Every tear is a stab to my heart, and with it all the feelings I’ve tried to suppress towards Edie come back full force. Empathy for her plight, fear of her rejection, and overwhelming…

“Stop,” I roar, pain making my knees buckle.

It lashes at me, my tattoos tearing through my flesh, ripping apart my muscles, digging into my bones. I feel them crack under the pressure, fissures appearing, breaking me apart. I howl in pain as my hands flatten against the wood.

“Dorian? What’s happening?” Edie asks. Her voice sounds distant, muffled.