Page 36

I WARNED YOU, MASTER

SEBASTIAN

I shouldn’t be here. There’s too much to figure out, and yet, I can’t tear myself away from this room. Grace is still unconscious. She lies on my bed, wrist bandaged but still bleeding. It’s under control now, at least. She’s not going to bleed out. She won’t die.

Too close .

It’s the only thought in my head. I can’t focus on anything beyond the way her eyes shifted, the way her soul seemed ready to vanish from this world completely.

She almost died.

I almost let her die.

I pace my bedroom, pausing to evaluate her wrist again. Cora should be here to stitch her up, but obviously that’s not possible. I don’t trust anyone else to try, and I never learned how to do it.

“Come on, little witch,” I whisper. “I need you to wake up.”

I run the back of my knuckle down her cheek. She doesn’t open her eyes, but her face twitches, as if she senses my presence. As if she wants to get away from it .

Another twenty minutes pass. The room is silent except for my footsteps as I pace the room. Back and forth, back and forth. We’re nearing twelve hours since the ritual, and still, she sleeps.

It isn’t until hour eighteen, when I’m checking her bandage for the hundredth time, that her eyes open. She blinks, taking in the room, before settling on me. She’s confused, disoriented.

It’s the only reason she smiles at me.

It’s a punch to the gut anyway.

“Grace,” I whisper.

Her eyes close again, and her mouth falls slack.

“No,” I say. It comes out harsh, like a command, and her eyes struggle to open once more. “Come on, Grace. Stay awake.”

I dip into bed beside her, carefully tucking her against my chest. Without a moment’s hesitation, I bite my wrist, roughly tearing the skin. Dark blood pools from my wrist and onto her shirt. I press it against her mouth, cupping the back of her head when she instinctively rears back.

“Be a good girl,” I say. “Swallow for me.”

Whether she hears me or she’s too weak to fight, Grace relaxes against me. She nestles her head against my shoulder, those warm lips latching onto my wrist. She drinks from me as if by instinct, as if she’s done it before. Between each swallow, she lets out a tiny, satisfied moan.

It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.

Vampire blood is healing, but I’ve only ever allowed one person to drink from me.

It was Cora, as a child, when she was so beaten and bruised, she would have died without it.

It was necessary, and yet, I vowed to never do it again.

It made me feel weak, like a lowly animal, as if I’d fallen down the evolutionary chain .

Now, I’m glad to give it. I pull Grace closer, urging her to drink more, to take every drop she needs. There’s an unfamiliar sensation in my chest, one deeper than lust, fuller than joy. It’s a sensation I thought didn’t exist—that I’m now determined to keep.

Two days later, Grace opens her eyes for real. She blinks at me, and there’s nothing hazy in her expression. She’s here , eyebrows scrunching as she takes in her surroundings.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

The words are too sharp, more like a command than a genuine question. I don’t correct myself. I’m too busy studying her features, looking for any sign of distress or lingering injury.

Tell me you’re okay.

Tell me you’ll be fine.

“Did it work?” she asks.

There’s a streak of my blood on her throat.

I’ve done my best to keep her clean, but it’s stained her shirt, creating a collar of dried blood.

She’s been feeding off me for days, and while I haven’t felt tempted by her blood, I know I’m being reckless.

I should have fed by now, and yet, I can’t bring myself to leave her.

“No,” I say. I swallow, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “It didn’t work.”

“Oh,” she says. With that single word, her entire body deflates into the mattress. She sags against the pillows, letting her attention drift from me. Her eyelids seem to grow heavier, as if she’s ready to go back under.

“But you survived, Grace,” I say. “ That ’s what matters.”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, scoffing. Tears fill her eyes, but she quickly blinks them away. “Did I…I don’t remember how it ended. Was I close before I called it? Would it have worked if I didn’t?—”

“You didn’t,” I say, interrupting her. Part of me wants to lie. It’d be easier to say she stopped it, that it would have worked if she hadn’t called it off. But I can’t force the words from my mouth. “It was working. It was going to work.”

Grace doesn’t respond, but her throat bobs as she swallows.

“I stopped it,” I say. “Cora said you would make it, but you were in so much pain. I was sure…I was terrified you were going to die .”

Her attention flickers from mine again. She’s still holding her wrist, staring blankly toward the corner of the room.

“Thank you,” she finally whispers.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I’m sorry I made you go through it. I thought it would work, that you’d be able to handle it.”

Another scoff.

“That came out wrong. I didn’t mean?—”

“Stop, Sebastian,” she says through a snarl. “Stop acting nice, like you care. You’re pissed, and you know it. You were so close to getting what you wanted, but you’d made a stupid promise and had to stick by it. And unfortunately for you, you forgot just how pathetic, how weak?—”

I press my mouth against hers. It’s barely a kiss, too firm to do anything more than shut her up.

“I am not bound by my promises,” I say. My lips brush against hers as I speak, and I tighten my hands over her jaw.

“If I didn’t care whether you died, I would have let you die.

If I didn’t care, I would have risked it.

I didn’t stop it because I think you’re weak or because I’d told you I wouldn’t let you die.

It was because, for the first time, I feared something more than my own mortality. ”

She swallows, and I trail my thumb down her throat, letting it settle over her pulse.

“I feared yours , Grace,” I whisper. “I had to choose between the curse and you, and I chose you. And no matter how many times I have to choose, that’s not going to change.”

I pull back, studying her expression. She’s impossible to read, her eyes staring just past me.

“Okay,” she says finally. “We can try again later.”

Rather than respond, I claim her mouth, kissing her until she makes a soft sound of protest. When I pull back, she’s not looking at me but the front of her shirt.

“Is this mine?” she asks, plucking at the blood-stained fabric.

“No. It’s mine.”

“How did it get here?”

“Vampire blood is healing,” I say.

Her eyes widen.

“That was real ?”

My lips tick into a smile without permission. I’m still half draped over her.

“That should be gross, right?” she asks. Her nose crinkles, and I kiss her again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m obsessed, so desperate to consume her, I can think of little else. Kiss her until she’s moaning. Fuck her until she’s thinking of nothing but me.

“It was hot,” I say.

“Yeah?” she asks. Her eyes sparkle, even if only slightly. She’s still weak, still tired. But she’s still here , and that’s what matters .

“Yeah,” I confirm. I press my lips to her throat, her jaw, her cheek. “Now, can I please fucking kiss you?”

Before she answers, her stomach lets out a low rumble.

“You’re hungry,” I say. It comes out more like an accusation than a statement.

“It can wait,” she says immediately. She presses her hands into my hair, flinching when she bumps her bandaged wrist against my head.

I’m off her before she can even think of wrapping those legs around me.

“Food first,” I tell her. “I’ll make it up to you after.”

“Sounds like I’m the one who should be making things up,” she mumbles.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say. I pinch her chin, angling her head until she meets my gaze. “You don’t owe me—or anyone else—a single thing.”

I swallow the sudden knot in my throat. I’m being too honest, revealing too much.

“Is Cora angry?” she asks.

I hesitate. Before I can decide whether I want to tell her the full truth, Grace sits up straight.

“She’s furious, isn’t she?” she asks. “Is Milas going?—”

“I haven’t seen Cora since that night,” I admit. “I imagine she’s furious, but I’m not sure. The last time I saw her, she was unconscious at my feet.”

“You didn’t?—”

“I did,” I say, cutting her off with a growl. “She ignored my orders. She was going to let you die.”

“Maybe she knew I wouldn’t,” Grace whispered.

“Maybe,” I admit. Surprise flashes over Grace’s features. I hold my hand out to her and help her off the bed. “I wasn’t willing to find out. ”

Grace blinks at me, eyebrows scrunching like she’s searching for a hidden meaning.

I stare right back, letting her find the same truth I already have.

“Come on, little witch,” I say finally. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

At Grace’s request, we’re in the courtyard. She’s eating a fragrant bowl of pasta, humming to herself between bites. I lean against the statue of myself, watching her without bothering to pretend otherwise. It’d be smart to use this time to feed, but I still don’t trust anyone else alone with her.

A soft knock sounds at the courtyard entryway, and I turn to find Oskar watching us. Damn him. All these years, and he’s still the only one to surprise me.

“Master,” he says.

We’ve only spoken twice since the failed ritual. First, when he updated me on Cora’s recovery—and fury—from my hit. Second, when he asked what plans I had to try again. I didn’t have an answer for him then, and I certainly don’t now.

“Oskar,” I finally reply. My attention flickers back to Grace. She has her electronic in front of her and a pair of headphones over her ears. She glances our way, offering a shy nod, before turning back to the movie.

“How is she?” he asks. He steps into the sunlight, breathing deeply as the warmth hits his face. He stands with relaxed posture and a soft smile, staring at me like a father would his son.

“Better,” I say, even though that much is obvious. The last time he saw her, she looked like a bloodied corpse. “The food should help.”

“Looks like food might help you too,” he says. “When’s the last time you fed?”

“I’m fine.” I look at Grace again. Not long ago, I stared up at the sun, hating its violent light. For so long, I believed it was the only force strong enough to contain my kind.

Now, I realize Grace is far more powerful. Her violent light is the only thing capable of containing me , and if I’m not careful, she’ll consume every last piece.

Oskar claps a hand on my shoulder, and I force my gaze back to him.

“She would have died,” he says. His expression is soft, with something unrecognizable just beneath the surface. “You could have broken the curse, but you chose her life instead.”

“We don’t know it would have worked,” I say. “It might have failed. And if she was dead, we would have been fucked.”

“Perhaps,” he says.

We both know the truth.

I hold my breath, hoping Oskar will let it go. Instead, he lets out a soft laugh and lowers his voice for only me to hear.

“I warned you, Master,” he says. “Love has driven people to madness.”

I turn, ready to deny it, only to find him already gone.