Page 77 of Craving Carla

Heat flushes my cheeks. “You have no idea what it’s like to be truly unwanted, Amari. You’ve spent centuries as the predator, never the prey. Wintermoon may not be perfect, but its walls keep my children safe.”

“It’s a glorified zoo,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “Humans pay to come gawk at supernaturals performing tricks. How can you not see that?”

“Because I’ve seen worse!” My voice cracks with emotion. “You talk about Wintermoon like it’s a prison, but you’ve never experienced real captivity. You’ve never had to hide your children in the shadows for centuries, watching them grow larger while the spaces they can safely exist grow smaller.”

Amari steps closer, his face softening. “Baby, I just want better for you. For us.”

“No,” I cut him off. “You want what you want. You’ve spent a thousand years taking whatever you desire withoutconsequence. Well, I’m not another conquest you can claim, Amari. My children and I have roots here.”

“Roots?” He laughs darkly. “In soil that barely tolerates you? The supernaturals here don’t give a shit about you, Carla. They tolerate you because King Amir says they must. The moment his protection wavers?—”

“Stop.” My hands clench into fists at my sides. “You don’t get to waltz in here after knowing me for what, less than a week? And tell me what my life is. You don’t know what I’ve built here, what I’ve sacrificed.” Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “You think because your heart beats for me now, you can just remake my world to fit your vision?”

His eyes widen slightly, startled by my intensity. “Carla?—”

“No. I’m done with this conversation.” I turn and start walking toward the docks again. “You’re right let’s save this argument for another time. Because it doesn’t matter how you see Wintermoon. It’s a better cage than the one I came from, and the fact that you minimize it so quickly just shows how narrow-minded you are.”

I walk around him, heading toward the docks. Amari lets out a dark laugh, then adjusts his suit and follows.

The walk to the docks is silent, tension crackling between us like static electricity. I try not to focus on Amari’s presence behind me, but I’m hyperaware of his every movement, every breath. He probably thinks I’m being stubborn, but he doesn’t understand. Wintermoon might not be perfect, but it’s the first real home I’ve had in centuries. The thought of leaving terrifies me, no matter how much I might want to be with him.

27

Amari

Carla’s quiet, staring at the waters as we reach the docks of King Amir’s Island. She’s been quiet the entire boat ride, just staring at the water, her mind clearly elsewhere. I hate this silence, this distance between us when all I want is to crawl inside her mind and ease her worries.

I cut the engine and secure the boat to the dock, then step out first before gripping her waist and hoisting her onto the wooden planks. Her hand finds mine immediately, her eyes fixed on the cabin-styled palace ahead of us.

The autumn light is soft and golden, dimmed by the clouds covering the sun. The forest around the palace is full of red, orange, and yellow leaves, scattered across the ground like a natural carpet. Beyond the cabin-like palace is a taller, darker structure at the edge of the island—a looming, castle-like building that feels cold and unwelcoming.

I can’t help but glare at it, clenching my teeth involuntarily.

“What’s wrong?” Carla asks, noticing my tension.

“Nothing,” I reply, beginning to lead her toward the royal palace. “I’m just not a fan of the Master Coven. They’ve been betraying King Amir for centuries, yet he continues to give them chances.”

“But Damon remains loyal,” she points out.

“He’s about the only one,” I mutter. “Without a heartbeat, vampires can be cruel, soulless. They have no problem turning on their own just to benefit their personal gain. It’s one of the major reasons why I left to start a coven of my own.”

I squeeze her hand and smile down at her, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell you more later during dinner.”

The royal palace comes into better view now – a massive log mansion that somehow manages to look both rustic and regal at the same time. The steep A-frame roof is covered with forest-green shingles that blend with the surrounding pines, and stone pillars support a wraparound porch. Floor-to-ceiling windows catch what little sunlight filters through the clouds.

“I can’t help but admire the simplicity,” I say, genuinely impressed by the structure.

“Yeah, that’s my cousin Anora,” Carla responds. “She’s very simple.”

“Do you have a bond—a relationship with your Blackwood cousins?” I ask, curious about this part of her life she rarely mentions.

“No,” she says flatly. “Anora was born in the shadows, the same way I was born. I thought Anora was a gift to me because I can’t have children of my own.”

I stop walking, looking down at her with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I don’t get a period, never have.”

“Does that bother you? Did you ever want children of your own?”

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