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“All I want is you, for as long as I can have you,” I replied.

So it was decided. We would stay and make the house in the mountains a more permanent home, at least until we learned more about the outside world and my…limits.

After our discussion, Julian left the room. I watched him go, my gaze fixed on the bruise on the back of my mate’s neck, now a deep purple. I couldn’t look away. The marks were an ugly reminder of how I’d failed my mate, and I suddenly regretted that vampires walked the earth at all. Everything we didn’t kill, we still managed to maim or destroy. I had to admit they would have been better off without my kind, especially with so few humans left. I hoped the world would survive, and not just this disease, but vampires as well.

36

VINCENT

Over the next few days, the snow began to melt. After two weeks of thawing, the roads were passable again. It was nearly April, and the weather was warmer yet still unpredictable. We decided it would be best to retrieve Julian’s car. With some effort, we brought it up the driveway and parked it beside the house. We weren’t sure whether we would need it soon or whether the gas would still be good when we did, but it seemed wise to keep it nearby.

As the weeks passed, we began to relax. No unexpected visitors arrived, and we were no longer planning a journey. Instead, we focused on making the house a better long-term home for the two of us. I foraged for tools, seeds, a wider variety of foodstuffs, and luxuries like books and extra clothing. Julian planted seedlings to grow fresh vegetables, and I kept hunting small game.

The warmer temperatures brought the mountainside back to life. Julian spent most of the day outdoors, and I woke with him in my arms, smelling of green things and fresh rain. It was like holding spring. Julian enjoyed not being cooped up inside all day, and his skin began to take on a healthy glow from all the sunshine. At night, we took walks or sat by the pond. It was wonderful to be together in nature without the hindrance of cold and snow.

Even my weight finally leveled off, and my body, though lean, was still strong and functioning normally. I was also starting to get used to the constant hunger. I now associated the painful hollow feeling with Julian’s safety rather than my own discomfort, and feeding became less important.

We were happy in our home and in our relationship. Every night felt like a gift, and we made the most of it. We never seemed to tire of each other. I still marveled that this brave, handsome man had chosen to show me such compassion. I never dreamed of such a love.

As the weeks passed, the only cloud that hung over us was the echo of Nathaniel’s warnings. Julian tried to act as though everything was normal, but I caught him watching me with suspicion whenever I was lost in thought or did anything unusual. I scrutinized my thoughts and behavior with the intensity of a wolf stalking its prey, remaining vigilant for anything out of the ordinary. It became such an obsession that I worried my fixation on my mind was, in itself, a sign of my decline. The anxiety was inescapable. Yet despite all my worry, I felt mostly okay.

That was true until one late-spring evening.

I awoke to Julian’s voice. “Vincent, stop. Stop now, my love.”

He stroked my hair. My eyes were still closed, my body liquid, my mind completely at peace as I lay with my face against Julian’s skin. I sighed, inhaling my mate’s heady fragrance, then froze.

My eyes flicked open, and my nostrils flared in alarm. We lay tangled together. Julian looked at me and seemed calm, but his skin and lips were pale, and one hand pressed against the side of his neck. A slow trickle of blood seeped between his fingers.

Panic slammed into me like a truck, yet I tried not to move too quickly and risk hurting Julian further. “Oh, God, Julian. What have I done?” I gasped between frantic breaths.

I reached for Julian’s throat and pulled his hand away just long enough to see exactly what I’d done. I swiftly pressed his hand back in place, sliced my fingers, then swapped places with Julian, closing his wounds.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Julian. I…” As I spoke, I could still taste Julian’s blood in my mouth.

“Shhh, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me,” Julian said, his voice calm—too calm, given what had just happened. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I was asleep and not in control. I could have killed you!”

“No, I don’t think you would have. You were as gentle as ever. It was like any other time, except we weren’t…you know,” he said. “You didn’t attack me, Vincent.”

“You can’t see yourself,” I snapped, still breathing heavily, struggling not to hurl myself across the room in the frantic energy I felt.

But no, the rush of energy wasn’t panic.

With horror, I realized I was feeling the power of being well-fed for the first time in a long while. Julian’s blood sang in my veins. It was wonderful, yet it filled me with shame.

“I’ve taken so much, too much.” My voice cracked with the truth, and red-hot tears slid down my cheeks. My tears were hot—the warmth I’d stolen from Julian along with the blood.

“You stopped when I asked. You were hungry. It’s not your fault,” Julian protested.

I clutched him to my chest, sobbing, tears streaming down my face. We stayed that way for a while, with Julian holding me until I felt ready to speak again.

“I’m losing it, Julian. I’m hurting you. I’m losing control.”

“No, you’re still you. I can tell,” Julian soothed. “How do you feel now?”

I pulled back and wiped my face. “I don’t know. Miserable.”