Page 56 of The Vampire Curse

Tears burnmy eyes as I close the door—tears caused by the pain in my muscles and bones, and tears from the turmoil of emotions I felt looking into Alaric’s eyes. Warring emotions that make me want to cling to him and run as fast as I can, and everything in between.

I massage circles into my temples with my fingers and lean back against the door to lessen the weight on my aching left leg.

My feelings are nothing more than anger.

They aren’t… they can’t be.It’s only pain and exhaustion making it seem like more.

Returning was a mistake. It was dangerous and idiotic. I could have been seriously injuredgetting here… but I can’t bring myself to regret it.

Every inch of my body hurts, but my leg is the worst. The burning has lessened to a dull roar—more spread out. Rather than searing, white-hot pain, it feels as though a bed of coals has been shoved under my skin. I must have struck a rock when I landed.

My clothes are covered in mud and grass stains and… blood. The leg of my trousers is ripped—my blood has dried, plastering the material to my skin.

I release a shuddering sigh and limp toward the bathtub. I turn the faucets on and adjust until it's the perfect temperature. Placing the plug at the bottom, I allow it to fill as I straighten up.

I take stock of my body, focusing on each area in turn, moving and flexing my joints. Each movement sends a stabbing pain ricocheting through my nerves. But nothing is out of place, and everything works as it ought to.

I was lucky that nothing broke when I was thrown.

It’s only once I peel off my trousers that I see why my leg hurts more than anything else. Three gashes run down the side of my lower left leg. The wounds are angry and swollen, the skin around them burns.

Alaric could heal me… but anger and pride won’t let me accept. Not when he lied. Mother used to tell me I was a prideful child. It seems little has changed since then.

I cross the room, feeling the burning ache more with each step, and grab a thin cloth from a corner cabinet. I slice it with Alaric’s shaving blade—I’m sure he’ll forgive me for dulling it.

Taking a seat on the cold tile floor, I set to wrapping it. The process seems to take an eternity, and I have to pause to breathe through the pain several times. My fingers shake and fumble as I work my way up my leg. The pressure I apply makes my stomach churn.

I sit back against the wall. The tight bandage gives me some relief from the relentless pain.

Gazing at the giant bathtub, I watch the curls of steam rise from the hot water as it continues to fill the tub. This is a luxury I never would have dreamed about before coming to Alaric’s manor—one I’m happy to take advantage of tonight. I’ll be lucky if I have a way to boil water for future baths once I leave Windbury.

Soap bubbles up under the running facet, covering the entire surface of the water. Even from across the room, I can feel the steam curling the loose wisps of my hair.

I lift the hem of my top and suck in a sharp breath. I have to slow my movements and, eventually, I manage to remove the last of my clothing. Scrapes and cuts cover my body. My skin is mottled with bruises—an exceptionally large patch has already formed over the right side of my ribs. Well, that explains why it hurts to breathe.

I grab a towel and limp to the bath. Turning off the water, I dip a hand in to test the temperature and moan. This is just what my aching muscles need.

Dropping the towel on the floor, I grip the edge of the tub. Then, slowly, I lift my injured leg and rest the ankle on the rim. It takes more maneuvering than I’d like to admit, and a too quick movement leaves me wincing in pain for the millionth time. Steam condenses, beading up along my skin.

Finally, I manage to get one leg in the water. I sit on the edge, bracing before trying to lower the rest of my body while keeping my bandaged leg from getting wet.

Not even halfway in, my hand slips on a damp section of the porcelain, and my next breath is full of water.

Clawing at the smooth surface, I try to find purchase, to grab hold of something,anything,and fail. Every move sets my injuries ablaze.

I’ve been claimed by a vampire, outraced a higher demon through the woods and lived—but now I’m going to die in less than three feet of water. My heart skips several beats as the reality of that truth sets in.

Darkness blots out the light of the room, or maybe it’s my consciousness slipping away. Then two hands grip my shoulder and pull me up to sitting. I cough and sputter, clinging to strong arms as my breath comes in deep, raspy gulps.

Alaric stands before me, shirtless and barefoot, water dripping from his scarred arms and chest. We stare at each other for a long moment before the reality of the situation strikes.

My eyes go wide because I’m completely naked. Alaric is barefoot and shirtless. I let go of him and press my chest against the cold porcelain, nearly slipping all over again.

He grabs my shoulders again, only letting go when I’m steady. My arms dangle over the edge as I catch my breath. I feel like a drowned cat.

Then Alaric does something that threatens to send me sliding back into the water all over again.

Alaric sticks one leg in the water as if—as ifhe’s going to join me.