“You dare attack my mate—after I have claimed her!” he roars.
Harrison whispers something sharp into James’s ear, seizes him by the scruff and drags him out without a word. The others raise their hands, take a collective step back, and file out of the room.
Valdarr’s chest rises and falls in quick, shallow bursts—as if he is hyperventilating, furious.
Yet I am not afraid; I feel fiercely protected.
I slide from behind the table and move towards him. His hand snaps out—not roughly—and captures my wrist in a gentle grip. He lifts it to his face, not to his mouth but to his nose. The sensitive skin tingles as he inhales, slowly, as though my scent is the only thing anchoring him.
His eyes flash violet. I gasp.
He lowers his gaze and breathes again, slower, calmer. The hand that holds mine is careful, even as his nails lengthen into black claws. His thumb strokes my skin in a whisper-light caress meant to soothe.
“My apologies,” he says at last, his voice gravel-rough. “He will not do that again. No one will ever speak to you with disrespect again.”
“It’s fine,” I manage—though it isn’t. “He is allowed his opinions.”
“It isnotfine, sunshine.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I feel as though I’m losing my mind. Everybody wants to disrespect and hurt you.” This situation is hurting him. He visibly shrinks before my eyes.
“Not everyone,” I say, keeping James’s name to myself. No need to poke the upset vampire. “The rest of your clan have been kind and welcoming.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s happening, my life isn’t usually so dramatic.”
“None of this is your fault.”
He releases my wrist slowly, as if prising himself away.
I tuck my hand against my chest, still feeling the warmth of his touch, the ghost of claws, the memory of breath on my skin.
“Will he be all right?” I ask. I do not want Harrison or Valdarr to pop James’s head off.
“He will live,” Valdarr says. “James is… protective. Paranoid, after a hard life. Usually we humour him, but this time we can’t. He just can’t be near you for a while. It isn’t safe. I’m not safe.”
That’s not exactly reassuring. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make your clan fight. What does ‘fated mate’ even mean?” I ask softly. “How is it possible?”
His expression gentles. “I knew you were my mate the first day I met you.”
“What?” I sit back down with a thud. “When you slammed the door in my face?”
He smiles. “Strange, isn’t it? I felt the bond lock in place, and I panicked—worried I’d frightened you, terrified I’d never see you again… and just as terrified that I would. Humans are fragile. I’d never steal your life or your humanity. Even if we had tried to be together, you would never have turned—no genetic marker, I checked. I planned to watch from afar, keep you safe, let you live. I never wantedthisfor you. Then, at the station, when I learned what my father had done to you, everything changed.”
“So you didn’t want me when I was human, but now I’m some human-slash-vampire hybrid, you are interested?”
“I will always want you,” he says firmly. He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “My feelings do not dictate yours. We can take our time. No pressure. If you don’t want this, I will get you, Baylor, and when we find her, House, out of the country, somewhere safe. You have options, Fred. You are in control; you decide.”
I exhale. “You are fated to me, but do you even like me? I’m not in your league.”
He moves so fast I barely register it—one moment across the table, the next beside me, cupping my jaw, thumb smoothing my cheek.
“You, Winifred Crowsdale, are perfection. My sunshine in the dark. Don’t speak of yourself like that again.” His voice drops. “I would crawl miles on my belly for a glimpse of those blue eyes.”
Words fail me.
Valdarr leans in and brushes a kiss, an almost achingly tender kiss, against the corner of my mouth.
All I need do is turn my head, yet I freeze.
Men like him do not choose women like me; the moment feels too unreal.