Page 60 of The Vampire Curse

I lean forward and rest my forehead against his chest. Weariness seeps into me, down to the very marrow of my bones.

“Everyone knew I had been claimed. I couldn’t have gone back even if Kathrine needed me.” I sigh. The rush of the last several days, being chased by a higher demon and attacked, and crying, have finally caught up to me. I am stripped down to the depths of my core and left raw, so all that is left is the dull ache in my heart. “You just sent me away without talking to me first. You didn’t even say goodbye,” my voice cracks on the last word.

Saying it out loud makes it feel more real. Otherworld damnit… he has become dear to me.

He wraps an arm around my waist then lifts my chin with a knuckle. “At the time, I thought it was best. I recognize my error now. Can you ever forgive me, my dear Clara?”

My throat tightens at the endearment. At first, he used it to mock me. I’m not sure when it changed.

I nod, unable to speak. I do forgive him.

After a long moment, I clear my throat and ask, “What happens if I leave before the winter masquerade… for good, that is?”

He hums thoughtfully. “You will be hunted—unless I can fake your death.”

“You would do that?”

“If that’s what you wanted,” he says.

“And… what would happen to you?”

“That is not for you to worry about.” There’s a finality to his words. A warning to not dig further. But a telling shiver rolls over him, and whatever that fate might be—it is not a good one.

“I could stay until then,” I say.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Alaric brushes his fingertips across my forehead, moving stray wisps of hair off my face. Then he pulls back, keeping his arm around me, and says, “Come, you must get some rest.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Clara

Walking is lesspainful with his help. Alaric leads me to the bed and helps me to sit. Once my weight is off my leg, the ache lessens, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Will you allow me to heal you now?” he asks.

I can see in his expression that he’s expecting me to refuse.

“Yes, please,” I say, then something between a laugh and a groan burbles up between my lips. “It really does hurt.”

He kneels in front of me. His eyes are instantly focused as one hand rests on my knee, the other raises my leg closer to his face by my heel. Slowly, he unwinds my makeshift bandage.

I hiss in a breath through my teeth. The fresh air and lack of pressure make the gouges in my leg feel newly made.

Alaric takes his time as he examines them from several angles. The skin is even angrier looking than before.

I gasp, struggling to breathe when he places his palm directly on top. My arms give out, and I fall to my back.

Alaric doesn’t acknowledge my reaction. His eyes close, his forehead wrinkling. I was unconscious when he’d healed my hand.

A small squeak comes from atop the pillows. Cherno. The demon crawls forward, ignoring me and crawling to his master.

Sure, why comfort the injured human when you could check on the vampire causing pain?

A rosy glow lights his face. I sit up, resting on my elbows, and peer over my knees. Red magic sparks over his hands and arms in glowing veins. A tingle of power seeps into my flesh, the sensation is all at once intense and overwhelming.

It hurts, almost as much as when I’d received the injury. I want to curl into a ball, to scream, to run from it. It’s cold and it burns, and I swear it will suffocate me even as it soothes.

Black spots move across my vision.