Page 49 of The Reaper's Vow
He studies me for a long moment, his thumb still brushing against my mouth, steady as if to anchor me. “Even if we complete the ritual, I won’t stop you from working, Karina. As long as I can keep you safe, I won’t stop you from…”
“I work as a patient advocate for the local hospitals. From home.”
“You can keep working if that makes you happy. Though truthfully, if you didn’t want to work, you don’t have to.”
I frown at his words, something sharp cutting through me. “And what makes you think I'd ever be comfortable just living off you? I've been independent my whole life.”
“Not independent,” he corrects me. “Alone. There's a difference.”
The observation stings because it's true. I've been calling it independence, but really, I've been isolated. Living in the shadows, hiding what I am, keeping people at arm's length.
“Besides,” he continues when I don't respond, “the Marek pack has more money than anyone could spend in ten lifetimes. My father may be many things, but financially irresponsible isn't one of them.”
“So, what. I'd just be your kept woman?” I cross my arms over my chest. “I don't think so.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I mean that you have choices.” He steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Something I've never had. Something I'd never take from you.”
“I'm sorry,” I say, softly. “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I am just so confused. I thought I had what I wanted in life. Now I'm wondering if I ever really wanted those things, or if I was just going through the motions because that's what humans do, pretending to be happy.”
His thumb traces my cheekbone, the calluses rough against my skin. “Were you? Happy?”
The question hits me harder than it should. Was I happy before Damien crashed into my life? Certainly not the last few months with Travis. But before I knew what it felt like to have someone look at me the way he does, like I'm precious and necessary?
“I was...content or I thought I was.”
Damien's eyes soften as he steps closer, his hands coming up to frame my face. “Then let me make you happy, Karina. If it's within my power to give you what you need, whatever you need, to be happy with me, I'll do it. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want—” My voice catches, and I have to clear my throat. “I want to complete the bond.”
His pupils dilate, his scent spiking with desire and hope so powerful I can taste it on my tongue. But I place my hand against his chest, keeping a small distance between us.
“But I need you to understand something first,” I continue. “We're in this together. Equal partners. I need you to be open with me—about everything. No more surprises.” I take a deep breath. “You're not the heir to some other kingdom too, are you?”
The question draws a genuine laugh from him, the sound transforming his face into something so beautiful it makes my heart ache.
“Just one as far as I know,” he promises, his thumbs drawing slow, steady circles against my cheeks. “I’ll be open with you. I don’t want someone silent at my side. I want a partner who stands beside me, who’ll call me out on my bullshit when I need it, who won’t flinch at the shared responsibility of this life. Think you can handle that?”
The words hit deeper than I expect, settling heavy in my chest. A partner, not a possession. An equal, not an ornament.
Can I handle it?
My pulse stutters, caught between fear and longing. Because part of me already knows the answer…and it terrifies me.
“I don't know,” I answer honestly. “I've never led anything more complicated than a book club, and even that fell apart after three meetings.”
His lips quirk up at that, and I feel a flutter in my chest at making this man smile.
“But I want to try,” I continue, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “I want to learn. To be what you need.”
“What I need is exactly what you already are.”
The warmth in his tone wraps around me, steadying the doubts still swirling in my chest. For a moment, I let myself sink into it—into him—and believe that maybe I could be this woman he sees. His thumbs still against my cheeks.
But then his expression changes as if a thought has pushed its way between us.
