Page 80 of Blood Vows
And as he smoothed the last trace of blood from my skin, I realised something undeniable, I wasn’t afraid of him. Not even now.
His touch lingered longer than necessary, his thumb tracing a final line along my arm before he drew in a deep breath and stepped back. Something flickered in his expression, hesitation, maybe, or restraint, before his gaze locked on the shallow cut at my shoulder.
“This will scar if it’s left,” he said, his voice low, thoughtful.
“I can heal it… If you’ll let me.” I froze. The weight of his words hit me all at once, along with the sharp, vivid memory of Victor. Of the first time I’d felt vampire blood in my veins, how it had burned and soothed all at once.
First came pain, sharp and consuming and then came the ache. A terrible, beautiful heat that had nothing to do with wounds and everything to do with the man giving it.
My lips parted, a shaky breath escaping before I managed to nod.
“Alright,”I whispered.
His eyes searched mine, dark and uncertain for the briefest heartbeat, as though he wanted to be sure. Then he gave a single nod and lifted his hand. He didn’t hesitate. His teeth sank into the flesh of his palm, the motion swift and practiced. Blood welled instantly, dark crimson, thick, shimmering faintly in the light. But what caught me wasn’t the blood itself. It was the way the darkness in him reacted to it.
It surged beneath his skin like something alive. Tendrils of shadow raced toward the wound, pulsing violently, desperate to close it before he could use it. He gritted his teeth, his breath hissing through them as he fought it back.
“Vas…”I started, but he moved before I could finish.
In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between us and pressed his bleeding palm, first against my arm and then my shoulder. Rubbing it over the cut before the darkness could claim it. The touch was searing, a jolt of ice and fire all at once.
I gasped, clutching at the counter’s edge as the sensation flooded through me. It was as if his power, that restless, cursed part of him had leapt beneath my skin, threading through my veins. For a moment, everything blurred… heat… breath… my pulse…him.
Then came the burn. Not of pain this time, but of something dangerously close to desire. My eyes fluttered shut, my breath catching in my throat as warmth spiralled outward from where his blood touched me. The wound knitted closed under his palm, the ache fading to nothing, replaced by a hum that sank deep into my bones.
When I opened my eyes again, he was watching me, his gaze dark, his breathing uneven. His blood still glistened faintly on his hand, already beginning to close as the darkness wound its way back beneath his skin.
He looked almost stricken.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper.
“No… You didn’t. I trust you, Vas.”
Something changed in his face then, as his fingers brushed my cheek again, and this time I didn’t hesitate. I lifted my hand to his face, cupping his jaw, feeling the faint tremor beneath my touch.
“I know you won’t hurt me,” I said softly.
Whatever words he’d meant to speak vanished. His hand slid to the back of my neck, and then he was kissing me, not gently, not carefully, but with all the hunger he’d kept caged. It was heat and promise and darkness colliding into one breathless moment.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against mine, his breath still unsteady.
“I love you, Nessa,”he whispered, the words rough and reverent.
“And I don’t know what I ever did in my dark life to deserve you.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The world narrowed to the warmth of his forehead pressed to mine, the steady rhythm of his breath mingling with mine, and the wild, trembling beat of my heart.
“I love you too,”I whispered against his lips, the words trembling but certain.
“God help me, Vas, I do.” His breath caught, a soft sound that was part disbelief and part relief, and for a second it felt as if the shadows themselves stilled around us. But then reality came crashing back in, cruel and insistent.
“But, we need to talk,” I said suddenly, my voice breaking the fragile calm. He drew back just enough to look at me, his features pained as he said softly,
“I know.”
Yet as the silence continued between us, I knew it would be left up to me to start. Which was why the words came spilling out, fast and unsteady, tumbling over each other as if I had been holding them back for too long.
“Your mother, I thought she was dead, and then she wasn’t, and she attacked me. And your brothers… What really happened between you? Where did you go? Did you meet them? And this,” I gestured between us, between my heart and his, still pressed close,
