Page 56 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

“You’re crying.” Seb’s voice held a note of alarm.

“I’m fine,” I choked out. “Don’t mind me. This isn’t because of you.”Oh god, please don’t let him think that.“I’m just a bit homesick. And I feel fucking awful for leaving her. My mum, I mean.” I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the judgement in his eyes. “Her carers are amazing, and she’s so independent. She’s got Katie. Shedoesn’tneedme. But I didn’t even say goodbye—I was such a fucking selfish coward. I hate myself for it.”

Self-loathing flooded through me, drowning out even my mortification at falling apart in front of Seb like this. My shoulders shook as I tried to contain the sobs. Everything felt too much, too overwhelming. Like being caught in a riptide, each attempt to surface only dragging me deeper. The kitchen tiles blurred through my tears.

“Can… I hug you?”

The uncertainty in his voice caught me off guard—this powerful vampire, this dangerous man, asking permission to comfort me. As if I might shatter at his touch.

I let out a watery laugh. “In a non-flirty way?”

The joke fell flat, my voice breaking on the last word.

Seb tutted. “In whatever way you need right now.”

Before I could respond, his arms wrapped around me from behind. The coolness of his body pressed against my back, and I stiffened for a moment before melting into his embrace. His touch felt like pressing against malleable marble. The sensation grounded me, pulling me back from the edge of hysteria.

I turned in his arms, burying my face against his chest. His expensive shirt would probably end up stained with tears and snot, but he didn’t seem to care. One of his hands came up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.

“You shouldn’t hate yourself, Flynn. Not even slightly.” His thumb traced soothing circles against my scalp. “I can already tell you aren’t the sort of person who hurts others deliberately. Sometimes we make impossible choices to survive.” His other hand moved to my back, steady and firm. “Sometimes it takes more courage to leave than to stay.”

“I’m ruining your shirt,” I mumbled against his chest.

He scoffed, his other hand rubbed soothing circles between my shoulder blades. The gentle motion, combined with the solid presence of his body against mine, helped my sobs gradually quiet to hiccups.

Still wrapped in his firm embrace, a thought struck me. The silence between us felt different, missing something crucial. I pressed my ear closer against his chest, confirming my suspicion.

“You don’t have a heartbeat.”

His arms tightened fractionally around me. “I’m sorry.”

The weight behind those two words hit me—he wasn’t apologising for his lack of pulse. He was sorry for being what he was, for all the barriers it created between us.

I pulled back slightly, suddenly self-conscious of my tear-stained face. Wiping my cheeks with the heel of my palm, I drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The cool air helped clear my head, though my eyes felt raw and heavy.

Seb still slowly slid his feather-light fingers across my back, continuing his gentle pattern. Each sweep of his fingers left trails of warmth in their wake, despite the coolness of his touch. I barely dared to breathe. Nobody had ever touched me like this—so tender, so careful—as if I was something precious that might shatter. My body trembled with the effort of staying still, terrified that any sudden movement would make him stop. That this moment would slip away like smoke between my fingers.

The quiet stretched between us, comfortable and charged all at once. My tears had dried, but neither of us moved to break apart. As my breathing steadied, I became aware of how perfectly we fit against each other. Time suspended like that moment between waves, where the world holds its breath before crashing back to shore. My body felt heavy and light all at once, exhausted from crying, yet hyper-aware of every point where we touched. The shift came so gradually I almost missed it, but suddenly I was drowning in a different kind of sensation—the gentle circles he traced between my shoulder blades had shifted from comforting to something else—something that made my skin prickle with awareness.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and rich. “For what it’s worth, if things were different…” He pressed his mouth to my ear, and even though I’d just been sobbing my heart out, my cock hardened so fast it made me dizzy. Heat pooled low as his breath ghosted across my skin. “I’d carry you up those stairs, throw you on my bed, and give youexactlywhat you deserve.”

I pulled my head back, arching an eyebrow at him. “I think you and I have very different definitions of flirting, Sebastián.”

“That was simply another—”

“Observation,” I finished for him, glaring pointedly as his lips twisted into a smile. I cleared my throat, painfully aware of how thin my pyjama bottoms were. “Well, your…observationshave left me with a rather obvious problem that these flimsy pyjama’s you’re so fond of aren’t going to hide. So I should probably head upstairs before I embarrass myself further.”

His eyes flickered downward for a fraction of a second, then snapped back to my face. The tips of his ears darkened—could vampires blush?

“Right. Yes. Absolutely.” He stepped back, running a hand through his curls. “That would be… wise.”

“Wouldn’t want to tempt you with any moreobservations.” I backed towards the door, fighting a grin despite my predicament. “Purely out of respect for your noble vow, of course.”

“Flynn.” His voice held a warning note that sent delicious shivers throughout my entire body.

“Going!” I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “Though I must say, for someone who doesn’t flirt, you’re remarkably good at—”

“Goodnight, Flynn.”

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