Page 93 of Taming His Vampire Mate

I stepped closer and wrapped my other arm around his waist, my joy bubbling up. Here, in this enchanted place, we were weightless and free. I was going to prove it to him. In the dreamscape, belief beats physics every time.

And with him secure in my arms, I took flight.

Thierry yelped, startled, and clung to me as the ground vanished.

We shot up through the canopy into a clear night sky. The moon, nearly full, hung in the distance, and the stars shivered as we approached, close enough to touch. If I tried, I could pluck one and give it to Thierry.

My vampire was no delicate flower. After the initial shock, he grinned, utterly open and unguarded for the first time since I’d met him.

“This is splendid,” he breathed, transfixed with wonder as we soared over the dark forest. Then he startled, pointing into the distance. “Wait. Is that Mount Rainier?”

“It is,” I told him. “This place’s version of it, at least. Have you ever been to the top of a mountain?”

He sniffed. “I can’t say I’ve had the inclination. I’m an indoor sort of gent, usually.”

“Indoor activities are nice too,” I replied, maybe a little too innocently. “If you don’t like it, we won’t stay.”

He nodded, then barked out a laugh as I corkscrewed us through the air, fearless as he clung to me.

The mountain took almost no time to reach. In the dreamscape, distance was just as malleable as the other laws of physics.

The summit was covered in snow, but our feet didn’t sink into it when we landed. Beyond us, the entire western half of the state stretched away.

Thierry brought his hands to his mouth, eyes wide. “This is…”

He trailed off, at a loss for words.

I understood. It felt like we were the only ones in the world—the only thing here that really existed. And it wouldn’t have felt that way without him. Thierry, though breathless, had somehow managed to breathe vitality back into me anyway. He had brought me back to life.

“I know,” I told him.

It was surreal. Even for me, it felt impossible that I was no longer the only witness to this place. That someone else could feel the same sharp wonder and joy so poignant it might break me. And he did—I saw it in his eyes and stamped across his expression. He knew it was pure magic. The deepest magic.

It was almost funny how wrong I’d been about him.

“Me too,” he said, giving me a shy smile. “Eight hundred years of life and you get jaded about people. About their motivations. What they want from you.” He paused. “But you’re nothing like what I thought you were.”

Interesting. He could clearly sense my thoughts and emotions here. Unsurprising, given that the wolfish mate bond, while not as direct as a blood bond, still allowed for a deep sort of empathy. And I wanted him to understand me the same way I understood him. But almost as soon as I recognized it, unease flickered through me. If he could sense my thoughts and feelings here—and he obviously could—then what else could he sense?

Because I was—at least on some level—the sort of person he feared. When Ian died, I’d become darker. Sullen. Angry. Hopeless. And so insane with grief, I had tried to tear an innocent man out of the daylight world and turn him into a creature of magic and moonlight and danger, with no warning or explanation.

But James was only a symbol of the infection I had let spread within me after Ian’s death. The manifestation of what it looked like when I forced my pack to go against their nature and become monstrous just so I could have what I wanted.

I had been selfish, greedy, callous—

“He forgave you,” Thierry said quietly.

“I’m having a hard time forgiving myself,” I admitted. “I betrayed my people, our teachings—even my own nature—when I went after James. And I tried to kill Pierce. I would have too if I hadn’t been stopped.”

“James and Pierce have both moved on. They’ve both forgiven you. Everyone forgives you.”

He locked gazes with me, his eyes filled with defiance. Pale and pretty, like a sculpture carved from ice—delicate on the surface, but nothing could have been further from the truth. He had an inner steel. And a fire, too. There was nothing cold at all about Thierry.

I kissed him.

At first, he went rigid, and I thought he might pull away to scold me. But then, a heartbeat later, he kissed me back. His lips were soft and firm, his mouth warm. His body pressed against mine, so good, like we belonged together.

I pulled back and stripped off his shirt, then mine. Thierry let me, need burning in his eyes.