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Twenty-Six

HARLOW

He’s staring at me like he’s never seen me before. As though he’s not the one who acted so fucking odd tonight.

Kidnapping me—that made sense. He’s a vampire while I have the cure. I rationalized his reasoning.

Locking me up—again, from his perspective, I get it.

Selling my blood—not right, but I’ve processed his reasoning.

Chasing me through the woods—he was pissed I escaped. It was expected.

But everything after that? The taunting, the biting, the sex. The way he seemed to be fighting himself every second of the way until I gave him permission.

Alec studies me as intensely as I am him, but for once, he doesn’t seem like he’s the hunter. He looks terrified, if I didn’t know better. His expression is taut, body wound tighter than a rope.

“What was?—”

He gets out of bed, retrieves his pants, and heads for the door.

“Alec!” I scramble upright, a wave of dizziness washing over me. Maybe he drank too much. I mean—he had a lot , but I couldn’t stop wanting it. I get it now, how sex and feeding go together for vampires; there’s a depravity in it. A recklessness, a hedonism I found myself craving. Not that his cock wasn’t impressive, but I think half my orgasm was because of him drinking.

“Stay.” He glances over his shoulder, his eyes reverted back to black, mouth in a snarl. “I’ll return later. Rest. Your body went through a lot tonight.”

“Yeah, no.”

Since when has he ever cared? I slide off his insanely tall bed and cross the room towards him. Something flashes across his face, making me aware of the blood staining nearly every inch of my skin. Even between my thighs, mingling with our combined cum.

“Not until you explain what that was out there.” I gesture to the window, indicating the forest. “After you first drank, you changed. You were different.”

He laughs humourlessly. “You have no fucking idea how right you are.”

“So tell me.”

His jaw works back and forth. “You won’t enjoy the answer.”

“I already hate you, so it can’t be any worse.” Although, Alec’s never hidden his evil from me, so yeah…I think it might be worse and he’s about to call my bluff.

“That’s your first mistake.”

Hating him is a mistake? I think it’s the rightest thing in the world. “What’ll be my second?” I challenge, crossing my arms over my naked chest.

“Trying to leave again.”

I don’t dignify that with a response. Running through the woods is a no-go; I see that now, but I will come up with a new way to get out of here. Sex released the pent-up emotions we both had from tonight, but it’s nothing more. Sex doesn’t change the fact that he wants my magick returned only to make the cure work as it should, to make him a profit for his messed-up revenge ploy.

When I say nothing, he turns for the door. I’m quick to cut in front of him, placing myself between him and it, half-surprised when he doesn’t just knock me out of the way. We’re both aware he could get by me without effort if he wants to.

“Tell me,” I demand.

Alec scans me, trailing over the marks all over my body. His eyes soften from a depthless black to something else. It’s a moment so brief, I’m convinced I imagine it.

“My marks look good on you.” It’s a barely there whisper, like he’s talking to himself. “Your family knew exactly how to tear me down. I wonder if they planned for you to be the sacrifice, or if it was shit luck.”

What is he— “Alec, my family’s done nothing to you. In recent years, at least.”

“If only you were in on it, but you’re so fucking innocent, you don’t even know the facts of your own life.”

My own… “You’re making no sense!”

“I know.” His jaw slides forward before he sighs. “Fine, but you’ll regret asking. What do you know about Brides?”

“Um. White dress. Weddings. One half of the couple undergoing a marriage ceremony, usually the half identifying as female. Why?”

“No”—he shakes his head—“not in the human sense. What do you know about a vampire’s Bride?”

Nothing. Didn’t know that was a thing. “Um. Black dress? Gothic wedding? One half of the vampiric couple?—”

“No,” he interrupts, his tone sharp and irritated. “A Bride is our term for a mate, the one made for us. They’re uncommon, and not every vampire is destined to have one. For many, it’s something that doesn’t exist, so no one goes searching for them. They might choose to take mates on their own accord, but it’s the equivalent of mortals picking their spouse. Even those aren’t common because, generally, vampires are happier alone. It takes a lasting connection in which two vampires can stand one another for decades or centuries. But a Bride is a true mate. Someone destined for us. Someone who becomes our ultimate obsession. We recognize them by blood alone, and the connection is nearly instant. A vampire’s Bride is usually another vampire; it’s just how it works. As for the specifics, no one knows. Some believe in fate. Personally, since we’re descended from one of the Fallen—angels who fell from Heaven alongside the devil, becoming the original demons—I think it has something to do with that. Something celestial rather than otherworldly.”

“We recognize them by blood alone, and the connection is nearly instant.” His behaviours changed after his first bite.

The only thing that prevents my stomach from bottoming out is the other fact he mentioned: “A vampire’s Bride is usually another vampire.”

“What’s that have to do with us?”

“A vampire can’t harm their Bride. We’re wired to care for them above all else. Acts of possession are all we know, the only way we’ll act. A bond forms between the mated pair, allowing them to feel one another’s emotions. After it’s in place, the Bride becomes the only being they’ll ever feed from again. Their immortal lives become entwined with one another’s in every way.” He pauses, repeating in a firmer tone, “ Every way.”

A chill runs down my spine, but I force my question out. “Again…what’s this have to do with us? Why are you telling me this? A Bride is another vampire.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? That’s the fucking cruellest part. The one fucking family I’ve vowed to destroy—and one of their own becomes my goddamn Bride!”

Me? Sense and sanity bend until they’re a mingled mess in my mind.

My arms drop by my sides, and I stagger against the door behind me. “What are you talking about?”

He growls, taking a step towards me. I question his claim about not harming me any longer, because he looks slightly crazed. Angry. Well, pissed, actually. “You really need me to say it? You’re smarter than that, I know you are. It’s impossible for a vampire to have a Bride from another species—or so I believed—yet that’s exactly what you are to me, Harlow. There’s only one explanation that makes any sense, and it’s that over the numerous generations of hunting your family, they caught on and cursed me with you .” He spits out the final word, his body inclining toward me. Despite not having any heat, and this conversation not exactly being warming, there’s a magnetizing fervour to him.

That would hurt if I cared even a bit about being a bloodsucker’s mate. “How do you know it wasn’t the cure making you feel something? How do you even know that’s what this is if you’ve never experienced it before?”

He laughs harshly, rubbing a hand over his hair. “It’s really hard to fucking miss when each one of my instincts shifted from wanting to hunt and slaughter you to caring for you, to fucking you…claiming you.”

“Claiming me?” I jerk, my head thumping on the door. “I’m already trying to get away from you as it is, I don’t need more motivation.”

“That’s the thing. You can’t leave. Not now, not ever. Not any longer. I won’t let you.”

I have a billion and one arguments to that statement, but I hold them in, knowing it’ll accomplish nothing.

“Still, this could all be in your head.”

Suddenly, he’s right there, his chest against mine, his fists coming up on either side of my head to trap me in. “I wish it were, but it’s not. The moment I drank more than a few sips, my every thought attuned to you.”

The memories of earlier flit through my mind. The way he went from drinking to throwing himself against a tree and demanding I run away. “That’s why you freaked out.”

“Wouldn’t you?” He turns his face, his nose trailing up my neck as he inhales. My thighs clamp together, logic taking a backseat to desire. “I couldn’t believe what my body was telling me. Still can’t. I was stuck between wanting to rip your head off and wanting to keep you close.”

“You told me to run.”

He lifts his head, seeming almost apologetic when he utters, “I wouldn’t have been able to let you go.”

Well, you will one day.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me when you almost…you didn’t rape me.”

Flat black meets me, as though offended by the statement. “We’re wired to protect our Brides, but we’re also driven to claim them. Blood and sex, I’ve told you, are key, especially to mates. Sex left my scent all over you so other males know to either stay away or risk death.”

Yeah, that we’ll be getting back to later. A possessive vampire boyfriend isn’t what I signed up for.

“But if you didn’t want it, and I forced you, it would have hurt you, and to hurt you would be like tearing my own head off. It was the loophole you could have used.”

My gaze finds the bed behind him. “You seriously wouldn’t have forced me?”

He shakes his head, his lips thinning into an unsatisfied line.

“What would have happened if we didn’t fuck?”

“Once we find our Bride, we’re compelled to claim them. If we don’t, we’ll go mad until we do.”

“And if I always denied you?”

“Then I would have gone crazy until finally succumbing to death. Waiting would have weakened me. It’d be a slow, painful process, probably taking decades, but at some point, my body would give up.”

Oh. “’Kay, but how do you know all this if Brides are so uncommon? I’m getting the sense you don’t have a handbook on all this.”

Exasperation lines his face, and in this moment, he seems more human than ever. “When you’re around as long as I am, one hears things. Learns things.”

Hm. Well, ideally he learned incorrectly. “And if I don’t want to be your Bride?”

He smiles, but it reminds me of his predatory one from the forest. It’s not friendly or kind. It’s the smile of a winner before snatching his prize. “That’s too bad. When I said you fucked up, I meant it. If you never ran away, I wouldn’t have had to chase, and I wouldn’t have bitten you. I would never have known.”

Is he serious? I cross my arms, pushing them into his rigid chest, trying to gain a few inches of space—and failing. “You’re seriously blaming me for this? Let’s not victim-blame here, and don’t bite me next time!”

Ignoring my point, he murmurs, “You know how impressed I was when I saw the broken window? Pissed as hell—still am—but impressed. You were inventive, and I’m truly shocked you managed to get to the ground without harming yourself.”

I won’t be telling him that, somehow, magick helped.

He scans my body clinically, ending at my feet before a determined set of his jaw has him saying, “Speaking of, you’re exhausted. Your body went through way too much for someone who’s no stronger than a human.”

Abruptly, the air changes and the door at my back is replaced with the bed again as Alec rests me on it, tucking the blanket over me. There’s a different edge in his eyes, one that solidifies everything he just told me. His movements are gentle, his touch caring. The complete opposite of everything he seemed in the conversation.

Oh, Goddess, help me. I think…I think he’s telling the truth.

“What happens now?” I whisper as he pulls away.

“You stay.”

“You really were telling the truth when you said you wouldn’t kill me?”

“I can’t hurt you without hurting myself. You’re safe. You’re the safest woman in the world.”

Except that’s not how I feel. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

He gives me his back. “We’ve had this conversation before. Yes, I can. Whether it’s for the cure or for your protection, Harlow, your life became mine the moment I took you from your house.”

Harlow. Oh my fucking Goddess… Yes, it all makes sense now. His voice in my head. It’s always been there. Something was pulling me towards him long before he came for me.

“Your voice,” I blurt, my revelation refusing to be kept from him. “Do you think that’s why I’ve been hearing you?”

“Perhaps.”

Silence stretches between us. My hands knot in the blanket, torn between getting out of bed and following or staying here. It’s in the space between us, I understand. Everything he’s said, it’s not a lie, even if I wish it was.

“I hate you,” I whisper.

“I hate you too.”

And then he’s gone.