Page 92 of Dark Flame

“Yes, and somewhere along our time together, that changed.” Maybe even before I bit her. “Something out there wants us together. Must be for a pretty good reason, so it’s our duty to see it through.”

“Oh my fucking Goddess,” she mumbles, tipping her head back until she’s staring at the sky. With another sigh, she pushes by me, and this time, I let her go, sensing her need to walk the rage out. “First it’s a bond, now it’s our duty. It doesn’t work like that, Alec!” She whirls, her foot sliding on the grass, but I dart to her side to keep her upright. She yanks away as fast as she’s stable, shooting me a scathing look before continuing her march towards the house.

I intercept her path. “I don’t have a choice, Hellion. My entire being demands I’m by your side, whether or not we like each other. Which, I do, by the way. Like you.”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Believe me or don’t. Your beauty was one of the first things I noticed. Your resilience was the second. Your humour, the third. You know how many Sinclairs have put up such a good fight? None.” I pause, searching her face, imploring her to understand the truths I’m revealing. “They fight back, sure, with curses and other witchy shit, but they always lose. How is it the witch without her powers beat me?” Her heartbeat thrums louder, inviting me nearer.

“I didn’t beat you. Not until I got my magick back.”

Another step, and her pulse jumps in excitement. “Oh, you beat me, Hellion. No other Sinclair would have survived me the way you did. You destroyed my will the moment you cried in that cell.”

“I survived because you let me. You would have slaughtered me that first night if not for your plans.”

That may be true.

“Ever think fate was the driving force behind my plan change? After generations of Sinclairs, only when it’syourturn did I alter my course. Why’s that?”

Her breath catches on the wind. “Thought vampires don’t believe in fate.”

“We don’t, but I’m starting to. What other explanation is there?”

Her gaze darts to the near-full moon in the sky, presumably looking towards where her deity would be, seeking answers neither of us will ever get.

“I’m not a vampire,” she finally whispers, tipping her head back down. “I have a coven again. Putting aside both of us and feelings and bonds and whatever else you’ve thrown my way, I’m a witch who’s finally home. A witch who barely knows how to be one, if today was any indication. I don’t know how to be a vampire’s Bride.”

“From what I’ve experienced, you know how to be a witch very well. And there is no lesson on being a vampire’s Bride, other than the fact you’re mine.” I snag her wrist, keeping her pinned to the spot. I catch when my words invoke a reaction urging her to run. My thumb traces the steady beat of her pulse, making small circles. “That’s your lesson. You. Me. The end.”

“I’m not leaving. This is where I was meant to be. Violet and Arthur murdered my parents and kidnapped me, forcing me to live half a life. One day with Morgan and I want more. Ineedmore. I need this.”

Centuries of being immortal has trained my expression to remain flat, to not reveal I knew all this after Freya told me her story. It’s all the stuff I meant to tell her, but then she escaped the bedroom and it was one thing after the other.

I despise the flash of grief coming from the bond.

I hate her trepidation more. I didn’t plan to stay; I planned on snatching her up and running back home. She’ll hate me if I do that, and hours ago, it didn’t matter. Her feelings about me or mating were secondary to the fact that she needs to be safe and protected.

Until now. Until she’s looking at me like she’s seeking permission when we both know she’s not. Until she looks at me with wide, violet eyes that are sprinkled with something I’ve never seen from her. Not distress, not anxiety, not rage. Pure bliss, happiness…hope.

Hope is something every immortal loses over their ongoing life. Hope becomes nothing when, with our powers, you can have anything. Why hope when we take? Hope is also a curse when wanting something that’s impossible. Why hope for an out to this life when there are so few methods?

But Harlow’s hope? It’s fucking beautiful.

“Then I won’t either.”

“Alec—”

“I don’t have a choice. Feelings aside, the bond won’t allow me to leave.”

She rolls her lips together before conceding with a nod. “Okay…just don’t die. The coven will be pissed to see you hanging around.”

They’ll be more than pissed; they’ll be deadly, but I let her cling to that faith. “Didn’t know you still care.”

Expecting a quick quip, she unbalances me when she murmurs, “I didn’t know either, but I don’t want to see you hurt. Bond aside.”

Good,I inject into her head.

“Good,” she murmurs back, twisting to face the house again with a sigh. “Look, I don’t know what’s next, but in a few hours the sun will be up. Which means you need a place to stay.”