Page 61 of The Vampire Court
I open my mouth to ask why he would send a man who hates me, but then something else rises to the surface of my memory, something more important.
“This is going to sound insane,” I start, looking at him wryly, watching his expression turn from pained to confusion. I lick my lips and feel the words on the tip of my tongue. “I think… I’m being haunted by a greater demon.”
He doesn’t speak for a long moment then shakes his head. “That isn’t possible,” he says slowly. “Greater demons are rare. There was the demon that nearly killed you when you returned from Littlemire…” He rakes a hand through his thick, black hair. “Oliver said the demon vanished after we left. They will migrate, but they aren’t known to follow people, let alone haunt them.”
“I think what we thought were night terrors was actually this demon,” I say. My voice wavers, sounding small to my ears.
I hate it. Saying it out loud feels like admitting I’ve lost my mind.
There’s no taking the words back now. I wouldn’t blame him if he regrets tying himself to me.
“Demons and saints, you think I’m insane. I should have—”
“Clara,” Alaric says, cupping my face with both of his hands and tilting my head up until I look him in the eye. He ducks his head to eye level, searching my gaze with his. “I’m glad you told me.”
He places a kiss on my forehead.
“They didn’t feel like dreams,” I say.
“Night terrors can have a way of seeming real. They have a way of playing with your mind even after you’re awake.” He offers me a half-hearted smile. “Yours are the worst I’ve seen. It isn’t that I don’t believe you because I do, but what you’re describing, what I’ve experienced… it isn’t normal demon behavior. It would make more sense as the result of being around several higher demons for the first time in your life. Without being gradually introduced to so many different powers, there are side effects.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I take in his words. He’s right. He is bound to a demon. He understands them, where I have only known lesser demons from a distance. It wasn’t until he claimed me that I’d been near a higher demon for the first time.
When I was in the dungeon, I was delirious from blood loss. It would make sense for the night terrors to return.
I nod, letting out a small laugh. “You’re right.”
Alaric watches me, looking for a lie, but there isn’t one.
I don’t want to think about demons anymore. I want to think about the beautiful, Otherworldly man before me, about how lucky I am that I’m alive and still with him… I want to appreciate this moment between us.
I clasp one of his hands in both of mine then entwine our fingers. Everywhere we touch is a tingle of power dancing under my skin, and judging from his sharp intake of breath, I know he feels it, too.
Alaric’s hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck. His fingers tangle in my hair and draw me in, bringing his mouth down on mine.
Desire, bright and blinding, ignites through my veins like wildfire. He breaks away to trail kisses down my neck, stopping on the final mark. His lips brush the sensitive skin.
It frightens me how much I want this man, how much he means to me. I still can’t name exactly what it is I feel, but I know it’s different than anything else I’ve ever experienced, burning hotter than the sun.
“I swear that this will be the last thing that will ever scar you.”
My heart warms at Alaric’s proclamation. He means every word of it, but I know it’s an impossible promise.
Despite the reason he claimed me, he has always tried to protect me. I still have the scars from the night-forged dagger striped across my arms, the webbing of scars from Victor at the base of my neck just below Alaric’s precise, small, punctures, and the three deep lines that run down my lower, left leg.
“You can’t always protect me,” I say.
He pulls back and smiles. “You don’t need my protection. You are human, and that is your greatest strength.”
A thin red line forms around his deep sapphire eyes. He grips my hips and pulls me into him.
Then, he’s kissing me again, harder this time. His fangs elongate. My tongue brushes one sharp point, just enough to draw a single drop of blood. He moans against me, wrapping his arms tighter against my waist.
Every brush of his tongue against mine, every caress of his hands as they roam over my body just feels right. My exhaustion melts away, replaced with a need I can’t fight.
I grab his shirt and tug it free from his waistband. My palms move up the rippled muscles of his stomach, gliding across his skin, bunching his shirt.
He releases me long enough to lift it up over his head and toss it carelessly behind him. A smile forms on his lips, and my heart wrenches in my chest. Then, he grips the shirt I wear and pulls it off over my head. Cool air flows over my hot skin as he presses me to him once more.