Page 57 of Caller of Crows

"I killed her because she asked me to."

Sven's eyes widened.

Altair looked down.

"Why would she want that?"

"Isabella never wanted to be a vampire," Altair explained. "She didn't want an eternity of darkness. She was afraid of what she would become. She asked me to release her from the bonds that tied her to this life."

"But why would you…?"

"Do as she asked?" Altair finished the question for him.

Sven nodded.

Altair didn't meet his eyes, his gaze distant, his expression sad. "Because she was the love of my life and I would never deny her anything she truly wanted."

Sven was stunned, his thoughts reeling.

He'd come into this conversation convinced that the woman's death was proof that Altair was cruel and irredeemable, but this…

He swallowed.

Why were his hands shaking?

Why was his heart hammering in his chest?

Altair gazed at him, his expression melancholic. "Does knowing this change anything? Do you still think I'm a monster?"

"No." Sven's cheeks burned.

"I am," Altair said.

"But—"

"I made the choice," the vampire continued, his tone harsh. "And it was the right one. She wouldn't have wanted an eternity of this." He gestured around the room. "She wanted happiness and sunshine and the freedom she used to have."

"But don't you miss her?"

Altair was silent, and Sven realized he'd crossed a line.

"Never mind," he murmured, lowering his gaze. "It's not my business anyway."

The vampire reached out, his cold hand cupping Sven's cheek.

Sven met the vampire's eyes.

Altair looked at him, his gaze piercing, his emotions laid bare. "You have no idea what I miss," the vampire whispered.

Sven's throat tightened.

The depth of longing in Altair's gaze made his knees weak.

He wanted this man, not only his body—but theman. The parts of him no one had access to. The parts Altair had buried so deeply.

If Sven hadn't already started falling for him, he was sure he was now.

Fuck.