Page 67

Carla

I wake up, memories of last night flooding back. Amari’s hands, his mouth, the way he touched me, how he made me feel. I smile and reach across the bed, expecting to find him there.

My hand meets cold sheets instead.

My eyes snap open and I sit up, clutching the blanket against me. His side of the bed is empty, the pillow still bearing the indent of his head but no trace of him. Something twists in my stomach—an old fear, a familiar abandonment.

I slide out of bed, my legs still wobbly from last night’s activities. My muscles ache in places I didn’t know could ache, reminding me of each position, each moment Amari claimed me as his. I grab my robe from the hook on the door but decide against it, moving naked to the bathroom instead.

The cool tile under my feet makes me tense as I turn on the shower. While the water warms, I brush my teeth and splash my face, trying to shake off the lingering doubts. Steam builds in the small bathroom, fogging the mirror as I grab a towel and washcloth.

I step under the spray, letting the hot water run over me, washing away the traces of last night. As I rinse the conditioner from my hair, I hear movement in the bedroom. When I turn off the water and reach for my towel, I see Amari standing in the doorway.

He’s already dressed in another one of his impeccable suits, not a wrinkle in sight, his shoes polished to a mirror shine. How does he always manage to look like he stepped straight out of a catalog?

“I wanted to let you sleep in,” he says, his eyes tracking a water droplet as it slides down between my breasts. “You needed the rest after last night.”

Before I can respond, he’s in front of me, vampire speed bringing him across the bathroom in less than a heartbeat. His hands cup my face gently, thumbs stroking across my cheekbones as he stares into my eyes with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice still rough with sleep.

“Making sure,” he says, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. “Making sure last night wasn’t just the wine and your emotions from Verde and Petra. That you actually meant what you said to me.”

I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. Rising on my tiptoes, I steal a quick, soft kiss.

“No, it wasn’t any of that, Amari. I still love you.”

I step around him, walking through the bedroom, but he’s right behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. He buries his face in my neck, his nose brushing against the claim mark he left there. My head tilts back automatically, a soft sound escaping my throat.

His hands slide up from my waist, catching the edges of my towel and tugging gently until it falls to the floor with a soft thump. The cool air raises goosebumps across my skin, but his body is warm against mine—warmer than usual, now that his heart beats.

I turn in his arms, pressing myself against him, uncaring of the way my wet body dampens his expensive suit. Our lips meet in a kiss that speaks of belonging, of certainty. There’s none of the desperate hunger from last night—just calm assurance that we have all the time in the world.

Amari keeps the kiss brief, then reaches around me for the bottle of lotion on the dresser. He kneels before me, squeezing some into his palm before starting at my feet, working the lotion into my skin with firm, sure strokes.

I look down at him, and something inside me stirs.

There’s something different about him today.

He looks... happy. Not the usual smugness I’ve come to expect, but a real, quiet happiness that makes his eyes shine.

It changes his whole face, softening the sharp angles into something breathtakingly beautiful.

“I rose early because the thirst was getting to me,” he explains, his hands moving up to my calves. “I needed to feed.”

“Oh,” I say, suddenly remembering his struggle with the glass of blood at Damon’s.

He stands and opens the drawer, pulling out a pair of panties while I take the lotion from him and begin smoothing it over my arms and shoulders.

When I’m done, he kneels again, holding the underwear out for me to step into.

He slides them up my legs, his fingers lingering at my hips as he adjusts the fabric into place.

“I know you don’t like drinking blood that way,” I say, watching his expression carefully.

Amari stands, his eyes fixed on my breasts, a slow grin spreading across his face. “It’s not a big deal. It quenches the thirst—it just isn’t satisfying.”

He moves closer, his voice dropping to that register that sends heat pooling between my legs. “Vampires are natural predators. We love the thrill of hunting our prey.”

His fingers brush my hair away from my neck, exposing the skin there. A single finger traces the line of my throat. “Sometimes I would stalk my prey, play with the woman I selected a bit.”

“You mean fuck her,” I say bluntly.

Amari sighs, his hand dropping to his side. “Yes. But there were other times I didn’t. Sometimes I just fed.” His eyes meet mine, something vulnerable in their golden depths. “The mate bond has set into me, but you had my heart long before. I just didn’t understand it.”

He kisses me softly, then pulls back just enough to speak against my lips. “I cannot touch another woman even if I tried. The thought makes me physically ill now.”

“Can you feed from me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

Amari’s grin returns, his gaze dropping to my neck. He licks his lips, and I see the tips of his fangs peeking out. “Yes, I can.”

I swallow hard, a mix of fear and nervous energy making my heart race. “Then why don’t you?”

“Are you offering?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ve done it before,” I point out. “You fed on me during sex.”

“No, that’s not the same.” He reaches out, fingers brushing over the mark on my neck. Electricity shoots through me at his touch, making me tilt my head back with a moan. “That was the claiming process. It was special.”

His eyes darken as he continues, “Feeding on you would be more erotic, more sensual. More personal.”

I look up at him, something inside me finally clicking into place. “I’m yours.”

Amari takes my wrist, bringing it to his lips. I suck in a breath, waiting for the sharp sting of his fangs, but he only presses gentle kisses to my pulse point before releasing me.

“Not now,” he says, his voice rough with restraint. “I’m satisfied with what I’ve fed on. Maybe tonight?”

A smile tugs at my lips at the sound of his words. Amari walks to the bed, running a hand over his beard as he sits on the edge, watching me finish getting dressed. I pull on my bra, then grab jeans and a t-shirt from my bag.

Once dressed, I grab my brush and run it through my hair, working out tangles before adding leave-in conditioner. I use my fingers to define my curls, scrunching them gently to bring back some of their bounce after the shower.

The whole time, I can feel Amari’s eyes on me, tracking every movement. When I look up, he’s smiling that soft smile again.

“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

He shrugs, his smile widening. “Nothing. Just admiring everything you do.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I look away, unused to such open appreciation.

“Tell me more about this cousin Angie,” he says, changing the subject.

I stiffen at the mention of her name, my hands pausing in my hair.

Amari raises an eyebrow. “You seem to do that whenever this particular cousin is mentioned.”

“She’s not horrible or anything,” I say quickly. “Just... direct. Very direct.”

“What qualms does she have with our children?” he asks, leaning forward.

I pause, a smile tugging at my lips. I love how he refers to them as “our children,” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I never thought I’d find a man who would.

Even when I believed I didn’t have the fated scent, I’d still imagined having a fated mate, but I assumed I’d have to work to get him to accept my children.

Not Amari—he’s been ready for them even before he met me.

“The same problem everyone else has,” I admit with a shrug. “The fact that they’re spiders. As long as we keep them out of her sight, she’s fine with it. But her children love them. The one time my children visited, her kids rode them like ponies.”

Amari chuckles, the sound warming me from the inside out. “What about the children? Have you ever bonded with them?”

“No, not really. The children are mostly focused on their studies at the Academy.”

Amari stands, smoothing down his jacket. “I actually think the idea of the Academy is amazing. I’m excited to visit, to see how things work. While children aren’t in the equation for me, being a vampire, I’d still like to help the youth in our community.”

I smile, touched by his interest. “I’m content with just my spider children,” I say, recalling a conversation we’ve had before. “But I never asked how you feel about it.”

His expression turns thoughtful. “I grieved that part of my humanity a long time ago. If I were human, then yes, I’d want children. But the life of a vampire...” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to raise children in this kind of life.”

“Are you happy being a vampire?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“I’ve made my peace with it,” he says after a moment. “But there was a time when I struggled with immortality—watching life progress, seeing how the mistakes from my people shape today’s world.”

I step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself for it. It’s evolution.”

“The guilt will always stick with me,” he says, his eyes distant. “Because it starts with the roots, and I am, in fact, the roots.”

I move closer, and Amari smiles, his hands settling on my waist. “I love it when you try to comfort me,” he says softly. “You’re the calm to the storm in my mind.”

I reach up to stroke his cheek, smiling as he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. When he opens them again, his hands slide down to cup my ass.