Page 4 of Bite of Midnight
Her hand lands on my chest; mine goes automatically to her waist, steadying her before she can stumble. Her warmth sinks into me like sunlight through ice.
She looks up, startled, breathless, and in that instant, the bond snaps taut between us.
“Sorry,” she whispers, voice soft and unsure.
My fingers tighten on her waist, drawing her closer without meaning to. “Don’t be.”
The scent of her, vanilla and honey, with something bright underneath, wraps around me like a memory I’ve been chasing for centuries.
She blinks, dazed, her pulse skipping. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling yet. She just knows it’ssomething.
I lower my voice, rough and quiet. “You should be careful, sweetheart.”
Her lips part. “Why’s that?”
Because I’m not sure I could stop myself if she asked me to touch her again.
Because she doesn’t know what I am, or that I’ve been waiting for her longer than she’s been alive.
Instead, I let my hand fall away, slow and reluctant. “Because not everyone here is as gentle as I am.”
She laughs softly, uncertain, but her eyes linger on mine a heartbeat too long. I can feel her curiosity like static between us.
She doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s already mine.
After a thousand years of silence, she’s the first sound that makes me want to live again.
She doesn’t pull away.
If anything, she lingers.
Her eyes search mine, curious and warm, like she’s trying to make sense of something she doesn’t have words for. The noise around us swells, music, laughter, heartbeats, but none of it reaches me. It’s all background to the rhythm ofher.
I’ve stood in rooms filled with kings and killers, but I’ve never felt small until now.
“What’s your name?” I ask, my voice low enough that she has to tilt her head slightly to hear me.
“Calla,” she says softly. “Calla James.”
It’s a simple name. Beautiful. Human. But when it passes her lips, it feels sacred. The sound curls through me, filling cracks that have been empty for too long.
I let it roll off my tongue like a promise. “Calla.”
Her breath hitches. “And you?”
“Damien.”
She blinks, eyes darting down, then back up. “Like… the old movie?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Something like that.”
Her laugh is quiet, disbelieving. “Of course.”
Her heart stutters again, a delicious rhythm I can’t unhear. I should step back, give her space, but every cell in my body is tuned to her now.
Around us, people dance, drink, flirt, and shout, but we stand still, locked in this impossible calm. The world blurs at the edges, leaving only her in sharp focus.
I take a slow breath. “Can I get you a drink?”
