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“That’s a difficult question for me. I don’t remember much of my human life. I would like to think I didn’t change much at the core. When I turned Bash, he was the same asshole he was as a human,” he says, laughing.

“Was he really? He seems like a good guy, reserved maybe.” I take a drink, grateful he thought to give me a full cup of coffee. I can’t survive without it.

“He is a good guy. We all have our demons and the ways we cope.”

“How do you cope?” I ask and push away my plate.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks lightly, but his posture is tense.

“You say I am your mate, right?” I ask, hesitant. I’m not sure I want the universe to control my choices.

“You are,” he says and narrows his eyes.

“Then you want me to stay with you. You expect it.”

“Yes,” he says harshly.

“So, if you expect it, I need to know all the bad things along with the good.” I lean towards him. “I can’t be with someone I don’t know, even if you are my mate.”

“I’ve killed many humans and shifters. Also an occasional vampire,” he admits, glaring.

“Did they deserve it?” I ask. How my world has changed.

“No, some of them I did for fun. Others did horrible things. Or I killed them because I was hungry and didn’t know how much blood to take,” he says bluntly.

“Do you know how much to take now?” I ask, gulping.

“Yes, unless I just don’t care.”

“Who do you drink from?”

“Most of the time, I drink out of a blood bag. Occasionally, I drink from willing women. But I have sipped on shifters, vampires, and humans,” he says roughly. He slams down his cup, spilling some of the contents on the table. I watch it drip down the side. The bright red color of it freezes me. “Are you disgusted?” he asks, noticing where my attention is focused.

I am shocked and unsettled but not disgusted. A part of me is jealous of whoever he gets his blood from.

“No.” I watch his closed-off expression. “I realize blood is what you have to drink to survive. I never thought I would ever have this type of conversation. It’s hard to take it all in.”

“I understand,” he says and uses his napkin to wipe the blood.

“Will you kill again?” I don’t know what possessed me to ask the question.

He stops what he is doing and looks at me with fierceness. “I will murder the whole world for you. I will kill anyone that hurts you. Do not mistake my normal home, my normal-looking life, as anything but a facade.” He waves his hand towards his body. “This is just for show. I am a monster underneath. I am a selfish vampire. I get what I want. I find a way to take what I want. You, I want. You are destined to be mine. I am normally not a patient man. You are the only one that will ever get that from me.”

He stands up, pushes his chair back roughly, and takes his plate to the kitchen. I have to pick my jaw up off the floor. I have purposely been pushing specific facts to the back of my head, not ready to deal with the reality of the situation. He is a vampire. He drinks blood. He is a killer. He’s right—I have been fooled by how normal he seems, but he is anything but.

I can’t deny the ache that comes with the thought of never seeing him again, never touching him again. I am magically drawn to him. I have somehow found myself in this new reality that I’m not sure of the rules for.

Do I want to learn them? Do I want to be tied to a vampire forever?

I look at him, bent over the counter, his back to me, with his hands white with his grip on the edge. I have to ask the question I have been circling. Knowing the answer but hearing it out loud makes it real.

“Do you want to turn me into a vampire?” I ask.

“Yes. I finally found you. I refuse to watch you grow old and die. I refuse to let you throw away what we can have together. The only way to have that future is to turn you into a vampire. I suggest you find your peace with that because it will happen.” He walks up to me and puts his finger under my chin to tilt my head. “You are mine, now and for eternity. Ask anyone how determined I can be. Just because I have not shown it to you does not mean it's not true.” He rubs his thumb across my bottom lip, licking his lips. “Test me. I love a good chase,” he whispers. “I will convince you. I can make you happy.”

I stare at the space where he used to be. He disappeared.

The primary emotion I’m feeling is excitement underneath the confusion, a little bit of fear, shock, and anxiety. What the fuck do I do with that?