She'd always been the one worrying about him, but that time, it had been his turn.
His fists clenched. "Maybe if we'd had access to a hospital and real doctors back then, she could have been cured before the disease took hold, but we were still living in hiding at the time. All mortals were." With a grimace, he added, "Because of people like you."
"We had nothing to do with that decision," Altair pointed out. "Mortals made that choice themselves."
"You hunted us down for our blood!" Sven exclaimed. "You made our lives hell and killed thousands of us. Do you think we didn't know what would happen if we ever stepped foot outside the safe houses?"
Altair was silent for a long moment. Then, softly, he said, "I'm not responsible for that."
"You can't claim you're not like the vampires who drove my people into hiding while you're keeping me as your blood slave."
Altair rose from the bed, his expression darkening. "You came to me, mortal."
"To save my mother! It's not like I had another choice!"
Altair's face showed no sympathy. "You always have a choice."
Sven laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. "Oh yeah? What choices are available to the son of a woman who's dying from a thornefang bite?"
"You could have chosen acceptance."
"Acceptance?"
Altair was standing in front of him now. "Death is part of life. Your mother would not want you to sacrifice your future for her."
"You can't speak for her." Sven's voice grew hoarse, tears stinging at his eyes. He didn't want to cry in front of Altair. He wouldn't.
"No, but I know the truth."
"Fuck you." Sven turned away, but Altair grabbed his arm, holding him in place.
"Death is not something to be feared, Sven." The vampire's voice was low, his eyes dark and solemn. "Everyone dies. If the doctors can't help her, maybe this is the natural course of her fate."
Sven felt his chest tighten, his stomach churning. He pulled his arm free and took a step back. "Not everyone dies. You don't die."
"Yes," Altair agreed. "But that is because there is nothing natural about the life I lead."
"It's not fair," Sven breathed, shaking. "Why should you live when she cannot?"
"If your mother had a chance at eternal life, would she take it?" Altair asked, his voice softer this time. "Would she even want to become a vampire? Does she have any idea what you're doing here? What you're trying to achieve?" Altair's eyes bored into his. "You didn't tell her because you knew she would not approve."
Altair's words struck a chord, and Sven couldn't deny them.
Altair was right.
"I can't lose her," he murmured, his vision blurring. Fuck. He was crying, wasn't he? "She's the only family I have left."
The only one who'd always been there for him, no matter what. His mother had raised him alone, without ever once complaining. Without once blaming him for her misfortune. She'd given him everything she'd had.
"Please," Sven whispered, looking up at Altair.
The vampire's expression didn't change, his eyes dark and sad.
"I'll do whatever you want," Sven said, his vision swimming with unshed tears. "I'll let you feed on me whenever you want, and I won't fight you again." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his cheeks burning with humiliation. Outside of sex, he'd never begged anyone for anything before, and it hurt, but his mother's life was worth more than his pride.
"I won't ask for anything else, just please, please turn me."
Altair reached up and brushed his fingers against Sven's face. His hand was cool against Sven's cheek, and Sven leaned into the touch, his eyes closing, even as the tears kept spilling.