Page 26

My breath caught. The weight behind those words, the careful way he’d chosen them—ice slid down my spine as possibilities bloomed in my mind.

Had he lost control? Gone on some kind of blood-soaked rampage through London, driven mad by heartbreak?

The image of him earlier tonight, throat stained crimson, flashed through my mind. How many others had met similar ends?

“I made myself vow I’d never drink from a human again. And to never get… entangled with one either.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. I thought of our late night chats, of the edge of devotion in his eyes when he promised to save me.

I thought of his thumb against my chin, the heat in his eyes when he’d tasted my blood.

What he’d said about my exposed skin, all the smiles he’d given me—the secret ones when no one was looking and the gentle ones that softened his whole face.

“But you’ve been flirting with me.”

His eyes narrowed. “I most certainly have not!”

I might have had limited experience with relationships, but I wasn’t about to get gaslit by him, centuries-old vampire or not. “Really? What about ‘I find you incredibly attractive and your blood is the sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth?’”

His lips pressed together. “That wasn’t flirting. Those were simply… observations.”

I glared at him.

“I… shouldn’t have been.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Flirting, that is. If I was.”

My heart skipped at his hesitation, at the way his fingers tangled in those dark curls. And maybe it was the late hour, or the lingering adrenaline from earlier, but something about his uncertainty made me brave. Made me want to chase this feeling, consequences be damned.

I eyed the brass fastening at Seb’s collar, imagining the satisfying pop as it came undone. Of what Seb’s chest might feel like under my fingers—smooth and firm and forbidden, like touching a precious treasure.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless, but I was tired of playing it safe. Tired of watching opportunities slip away like tide water between my fingers.

I stepped closer, his scent—jasmine and that wild, dangerous undercurrent—wrapping around me like smoke.

“Maybe I don’t mind the flirting.” My voice came out lower than intended, almost sultry. “Maybe I’ve been enjoying it.”

Seb’s jaw clenched, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“Have you not been listening? I just explained that after James, I killed people. Many people. So I made a vow. No humans. No relationships. No exceptions.”

I tilted my head, studying the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands had balled into fists at his sides.

Had he really condemned himself to spend the rest of his life alone because of one incident?

All those years stretching ahead of him, empty of touch, of connection—the weight of that self-imposed isolation felt suffocating even to imagine. “That’s stupid.”

“Stupid?” Seb’s eyes flashed, and suddenly he was right in front of me, his hand resting just above my collarbone, as if to grip my throat. Not squeezing, but holding me in place with inhuman strength. “You think my control is a joke?”

Oh dear. I definitely could have phrased that better. I immediately wanted to claw back the word, seeing myself through his eyes—young, immature, stupid. My heart hammered against my ribs. His face hovered inches from mine, those chestnut eyes burning with predatory intent.

“Let me explain.” His voice dropped to a growl that vibrated through my chest. “If we had sex, I could drain you dry. Not because I would want to, but because I couldn’t stop myself.

For me, like most vampires, bloodlust and sexual desire are intertwined.

The moment I lost control, my fangs would sink into your throat, and I would drink and drink until your heart stopped beating. ”

I couldn’t breathe. Not from his grip—which remained loose enough to allow air—but from the raw honesty in his words.

“Would you want to risk that?”

I watched, transfixed, as his lip curled back in a slow, deliberate motion.

What happened next made my breath catch in my throat.

His canines lengthened , extending like twin ivory needles until they tapered to wicked points.

These weren’t the cheap plastic fangs from Halloween—they were elegant, lethal weapons that gleamed in the dim light.

My mouth fell open at the sight. Each an inch long, they looked sharp enough to slice through flesh like butter.

“Risk dying in my bed while I feast on your blood like some rabid animal?”

The raw danger in that moment, the predatory grace of those fangs, sparked a confusing cocktail of terror and want. “I—”

“Because that’s what could happen. Especially with me being permanently half starved.” His fingers tightened fractionally. “I could kill you, Flynn.”

He released me and stepped back, and I gasped, releasing the tension I’d been holding. The kitchen spun slightly.

“So no.” His voice was ice. “Nothing. I won’t risk it. Not to mention you’re supposed to be here under Killigrew Street protection.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I slumped forward onto the counter, resting my forehead against the cool surface, letting my mortification seep away somewhat.

My heart still raced from his display of power, from those lethal fangs.

“That was a beyond stupid thing to say. I wasn’t thinking. It’s been a long night.”

“Are you alright?” Seb’s voice had lost its edge. “I don’t wish to hurt your feelings. Genuinely. I just… need to keep you safe.”

“No, it’s fine.” I traced circles on the countertop with my finger. “I just need a moment. Besides, I’m getting accustomed to rejection these days. I’ll get over it quickly.”

“What do you mean, accustomed? ”

I kept my head down, not wanting to see his expression.

“After my grandfather’s funeral… it was my friend Tom’s last day at home.

He was leaving me—well, leaving Braymore—to work a season on the yachts.

” The words spilled out freely, as if desperate for escape.

“And I kissed him. And he… did not take it well. Not in a horrible way. He was quite nice about it, considering. ”

My memories of that day were tragically crystal clear: Tom by my side all throughout my grandfather’s service. He’d known exactly how to make me smile, how to comfort my mum as the tears spilt down her cheeks.

Then after, we’d walked to the beach, our elbows brushing as we slipped across the sand to the pier.

Tom telling me his news. Saying how it was bad timing, but he’d be back in a couple of months.

My chest had constricted, panic clawing up my throat like the incoming tide. Everything I’d ever wanted to say to him crashed over me at once—how he’d been my anchor through so many storms, how his laugh made the whole harbour brighter, how I couldn’t bear the thought of him sailing away.

The words wouldn’t come. Instead, I’d lurched forward, my trembling hands finding his jacket, and pressed my lips against his. For one suspended moment, everything else fell away—the pier, the funeral, the weight of expectations. There was just Tom, and the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe…

Then, it was Tom’s face shifting, crumpling into that gentle, devastating look of sympathy. Even now, I could still feel the softness of his lips, taste the salt from the sea air, hear his soft, “Oh, Flynn,” that had shattered me.

Seb remained silent, but I could feel his presence beside me, listening.

“I thought I loved him.” My voice wavered. “But now I’m not so sure. We were super close for years, and I think I just wanted desperately for someone .” Heat crept up my neck. “I mean, I’ve reached twenty-five and I’m still a virgin. It’s embarrassing.”

I clearly wanted to dig the shard of glass in deeper as I forced myself to look up at Seb, bracing for pity or mockery. Instead, his eyebrows had shot up towards his hairline, genuine shock written across his features.

“Flynn—”

“Don’t.” I straightened up, forcing a smile. “Don’t try to make me feel better about it. I know it’s pathetic. It’s humiliating.”

“It’s… surprising.” Se b’s eyes roamed over my face, down my body, and back up again. “You’re so confident, so warm to everyone, and—now, this isn’t flirting —quite frankly, very attractive. I’d have thought you’d have people fighting over you.”

Heat bloomed across my cheeks at his words. The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was stating the sky was blue—made it impossible to dismiss as empty flattery.

“I had a few flings with tourists,” I mumbled, fiddling with my empty mug. “I’m not a complete born-again saint or whatever. Just… nothing serious.”

“Why not?”

I sighed, memories of Grandpa’s disapproving scowl rising unbidden. “My grandfather, I guess. He was… well, quite homophobic would be putting it mildly. Proper old-school Catholic. Half the town was.”

“Did he know about you?”

“Yeah. I made Mum tell him, actually. Couldn’t bear the thought of hiding it forever.” I traced the rim of my mug. “She told me to ignore him, said he was from a different time and all that usual bullshit. But she fully supported me, honestly. My sister, Katie, too.”

Seb leaned against the counter, expression considering.

“The thing was…” I swallowed hard. “It was his house we all lived in. My mum, Katie, and I moved in with him after my dad died. Living under his roof, seeing him every day… I think it might have stopped me—subconsciously, you know?—from pursuing anything real. He was everywhere in Braymore Bay. Local celebrity, practically ran the town council. Everyone knew him, respected him.”

The words tasted bitter. It was complicated, how the same man who’d given us a home, who’d taught me to love the sea, had made me feel so small.