Page 60 of The Vampire Court

“She already knew about Rosalie. How…” I shake my head, pressing a palm to my temple.

“Only the court knew, and she didn’t expect me to announce it in front of everyone.”

“But you did,” I say slowly.

He nods. “It was a calculated risk.”

Alaric closes the distance between us, his gaze unwavering from the bite marks on my neck. He reaches up and, with the softest touch, brushes the tiny scars with his fingertips. It sends tingles rushing along my skin.

“If this hadn’t been the final mark, they would have ripped you to shreds or would have expected me to drink every last drop of your blood.”

I swallow, not wanting to think about that anymore.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” he says quietly.

And I believe him.

Alaric shifts his weight, his chest pressing lightly against mine. I lean into him, into his warmth and that slight touch causes desire to rip its way through me. The closer he is, the stronger I feel our connection and the echoing heartbeat.

“How are you feeling?”

Thankful for the change of subject, I close my eyes and take a moment to assess my body. Opening them again, I expel a breath and say, “Good. A little tired, but… good.”

Alaric wraps me up in his arms. “I am sorry. It was the only way to squash all doubts.” His thumb brushes over the scar. “I’m sorry for this too, Clara.”

His long, thick lashes lower, shielding his eyes. He doesn’t just mean for the scar. He means for giving me the final mark because that decision was taken from both of us.

Whatever my destiny is now, it’s tied with his.

There’s a strange feeling running through me, like blood pumping through my veins but separate. It feels at home as if it was always there, and I’d never noticed it before. A part of me has finally woken after hibernating for over twenty years.

I lick my lips and speak words I know he needs to hear, words that are true. “If it hadn’t been you, then I would have been reclaimed by another. I do not regret it.”

The corners of his mouth twitch into the ghost of a smile. Then, his arms are around me, crushing me to him. I curl into him, needing his touch as much as he needs mine. With one arm banded around my waist, he runs the fingers of his free hand through my hair. I wrap my arms around his neck and inhale his musky scent.

Even though my fatigue and the strange power of his humming through every nerve ending, I am more aware of him than ever before. I bring my hand up between us and rest it on his chest.

Alaric pulls back, giving me a questioning look. I stare at his chest. I can’t feel his heart through his muscle and skin, but I can sense every time his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I can sense you,” I explain. He cants his head to the side, so I elaborate, “Your heart… and your breath.” I shake my head feeling stupid.This close up, any idiot could. “It’s more than—I don’t know—I think I could feel them even if you were somewhere else in the world.”

His quiet laugh rumbles deep in his chest. “I can feel you as well.”

I sway on my feet, leaning on him for support, suddenly overwhelmed by processing everything all at once.

“You’re exhausted, Clara. You shouldn’t be up.” He tries to pick me up, but I swat at his hands.

“I’m a little tired,” I say. “I’m not going to break.”

He chuckles and settles for offering an arm. I rest my head against his arm as we make our way across the room, wanting the extra contact.

“You didn’t come for me in the dungeon,” I say quietly, immediately regretting the words.

Alaric stops walking. Letting go of my arm, he swings me around to stand between him and the bed.

“Had I gone, you would never have made it out alive.” He reaches up and cups the nape of my neck with his palm. His thumb strokes along the edge of my jaw. “I tried to send Lawrence, but even he couldn’t manage it.”