Page 18 of Bite of Midnight
Her eyes widen. “That’s… possible?”
“Yes.”
She swallows hard. “And you’ve done that before?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Never?”
“Never,” I say. “Because I’ve never found the one who was mine.”
She looks away, processing, then back at me with a question that undoes me. “And if I say no?”
I smile faintly, though it feels like it breaks something inside me. “Then I spend the rest of eternity watching you live the life you were meant to. Hoping you find someone who makes you feel safe. Happy.”
Her eyes glisten. “You’d really let me go?”
“If it meant you’d survive? Yes.”
I reach out before I can stop myself, brushing my thumb along her cheek. Her skin is soft, warm, alive. It hurts how beautiful she is. “But understand this, Calla James.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Even if you walk away… your soul will always know mine.”
The air trembles between us. I can feel her pulse beneath my wrist, her breath catching on the gravity of what I’ve just said.
If I kiss her again, I won’t stop.
So I take a step back. Because if I’m going to lose her, it won’t be tonight.
She stares into the fire for a long time, silent. I wait, centuries have taught me patience, but she tests every ounce of it.
When she finally looks back at me, her eyes are soft but uncertain. I move a step closer, careful not to break the fragile calm.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” I murmur. “There’s time.”
Her lips part.
“Centuries of it, if you need.” I smile faintly. “I’ve already waited a thousand years. I can wait a little longer.”
Her eyes shine, and something tightens in my chest. I brush my fingers down her arm until I find her hand. The touch is gentle, reverent. “But if I could ask for one thing, just one…”
She tilts her head. “What?”
“One night,” I say, my voice rough. “One night to show you what it means when I say I’d worship you.”
Her breath trembles. “Worship me?”
“Yes.” I step closer, my thumb tracing lazy circles over her pulse. “Not to claim you. Not to take. Just to show you what it feels like to be wanted, completely, without end, without fear.”
Her chest rises and falls faster, color blooming in her cheeks. “Damien…”
“You’d be safe,” I whisper. “Always.”
The silence stretches, fragile and electric. Then she nods, barely, but enough. “Okay,” she whispers. “One night.”
The words hit me like a heartbeat after years of stillness. I take a steadying breath. Every part of me wants to lose control, to drag her into my arms.
Instead, I lift her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Then one night,” I whisper. “And I’ll make sure it’s something you never forget.”
I guide her through the room, each step deliberate. The firelight flickers over her skin, making her glow like she’s been painted in gold.
