Page 6 of Wanted 3

"Vlad Dracule?" I asked, my mind sifting through the stories and lore. "Like, as in Dracula? You were named after Dracula?"

When he didn't respond, the truth slammed into me and I gasped, sitting bolt upright. "Not named after Dracula," I clarified, the puzzle completing in my mind. "YouareDracula? Vlad the Impaler? All the stories?"

He nodded, his narrowed eyes watching my every move. "I am. Though the stories are not all true.” He paused noticeably, before adding, “The truth is much worse. I am much worse."

His words contained no self-pity, just unvarnished truth. He wanted me to see him, the real him. He’d showed me his truth when he’d brought me Don's head. Now, from the way he studied me, I understood he needed to know if I could handle the full impact of his history, as well.

I slid back into the sheets and propped myself up on his chest so I could see his face better. Then, caressing his cheek, I held his gaze with mine. "You can call yourself whatever you want. You can be whoever you want. I love you as you are. You don't have to hide from me."

His eyes flickered wider, then he cupped my face, sliding a finger down my jawline. "You are most extraordinary, Kassandra. You have me. My love. My eternal devotion. I will always stand by you."

My heart swelled with his words, reshaping my inner landscape from the barren wasteland I always imagined it to be to something fertile and ripe with new growth. His love planted within me nourished my soul in a way nothing else had ever done. I was his. He was mine. Nothing could tear us apart.

"What would you like me to call you?" I asked.

"Vlad," he said. "You can call me Vlad."

I smiled. "It's a good name. It suits you."

We spent the rest of the night talking. Sharing our stories, our pain, our triumphs. He told me more about his wife, her death, their child. It ripped open my heart, seeing him so vulnerable.

"I loved her," he confessed softly, "but it was an incomplete love. She could never accept the darkness inside me. I tried to change for her, to be more human, but that wasn't in me to give her."

"You don't need to change for me," I reminded him. "I accept you as you are."

I knew as we talked that I would never know everything about him. He had lived too many lives to ever encapsulate that into mere words. But I got to know the essence of him. His hopes and dreams. His loves and losses.

As we finally fell asleep in each other's arms, there was only one question I didn't dare ask. One thought that haunted me and made me wonder.

He had wanted a child so badly he married a human and she had died.

He never turned her.

Had he planned to? Or had he been content to let her live her mortal life to its completion?

And what did that mean for me? Would he want me to become like him? A vampire? So we could live together forever? Or did our love have an expiration date. Would he want me to stay human?

And what didIwant from all this?

Was I ready to give up my humanity—and daylight—for an eternity with him?

As soon as I thought the question, I knew the answer.

Yes.

Humanity had never done much for me anyways, and the sun was overrated.

I wanted to be like him. I wanted to become a vampire.

But would he want to make me one?

That's the question I was scared to ask.

Because if he said no, that meant our time together was finite.

And that broke the fragile hope growing with me.

I needed forever with him.

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