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But it will have to come to an end eventually, and that will happen when I die.

I don’t want to die.

I am under this man’s spell, and I intend to be for all time. I don’t want to watch his face as he watches me pass on, having to live on through life without me. He already lost his wife, and though it was by his hand, I can see what that loss did to him. If I go, will he submit to the monster and exist in agony? What will it be like to watch everyone around me never age while I do? What happens if we have children? Will they an immortal like him, or will he have to eventually watch them die as well?

He stirs a little, his breathing stopping and starting.

“Priest?” I whisper.

He lets out a low moan and pulls me closer to him, nuzzling his nose through my hair and along the back of my neck while he presses his cock against me, already hard and hot.

“You’re up early,” he murmurs.

“I thought you didn’t sleep.”

“Only after you tire me out,” he says. He adjusts himself and brushes my hair back behind my ears, delicately nibbling the shell. My body immediately responds to him, ravenous, like he’s uncovering hunger previously living dormant.

But I don’t want to submit just yet. I can’t, or I’ll lose both my nerve and my focus.

“Priest, I want to ask you something. Something important.”

He goes still. “Alright.”

I take a deep breath, but his arms hold me tight.

“I’ve been thinking about this…perhaps not for too long, but I don’t think it’s something one needs to dwell on.”

Silence swirls around us as he waits for me to go on, his breath bated.

“You’re an immortal,” I say. “And I’m not. And I don’t think it’s fair that an immortal and mortal can fall in love.”

He clears his throat after a moment. “Nothing is ever fair. We both know this well.”

“But…what if there was a way around it?”

He stiffens beside me and moves so that his hand is on my arm and he’s peering down at me, the black curtain of his long hair tickling my skin. “What way is that?”

“Turn me into a Vampyre.”

He blinks at me and then gives me the most incredulous, sour grin. “You know that’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” I sit up, nearly hitting my head on the bottom of the bunk. “It’s not. You’re here. You’re proof of it, living proof that you can be transformed.”

The blue in his eyes turn to ice as his gaze hardens. “I was?—”

“A monster. I know. We know.”

He glares at me and lets out a huffy growl.

“But you were a human before. A witch, perhaps, but a human. You were mortal. You were transformed, and you became the monster. But I’m not human. I am a monster too. My body has been able to handle being both human and Syren at the same time, so I should be able to handle being a Vampyre too.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

“But what if I beg you?”

“Larimar,” he says sharply, grabbing me by the chin and holding me there as he spears me with his angry gaze. “I will not make you into a creature as foul and vile as the one I am.”

“But will you make me into a Vampyre? If there was a chance I could drink blood and live forever by your side? Would you grant me that?”