Page 25 of Blood Vows
“I was just asking a question.”
“And I was just reminding you of your position,” he replied, the sharpness of his tone cutting through the air like ice.
I took a slow breath, forcing calm into my voice.
“Do you always assume the worst of everyone, or is it just me?” That seemed to catch him off guard. For a long moment, he said nothing, and then his shoulders loosened slightly, as if the edge of his anger had dulled.
“It’s been a long time since anyone gave me cause to trust them,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, more human. Something in the way he said it made my chest ache.
“I know what that’s like,” I admitted, my voice soft.
“Finding it hard to trust people, I mean. When you’ve been hurt enough times, it becomes easier not to try.” His gaze lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just thatlook. The flicker of understanding in his eyes, the faint shift in his expression that spoke of things long buried.
“Then we understand each other,” he said quietly. The tension in the air changed then, softened somehow, though neither of us moved closer. It was as if the space between us was holding its breath. The flames popped in the hearth, throwing sparks that danced up the chimney, and he finally turned away, breaking whatever fragile moment had formed.
“It’s late,” he said, his tone rough again, as though he needed the distance of formality.
“You should rest.” He offered me his hand once more, and though I hesitated, I took it. His grip was warm, steady, and far too careful for someone who claimed he didn’t trust me. And in that vulnerable moment, I couldn’t help but feel that all it would take was the slightest pull, and I’d find myself in his arms. But that grip had been there one minute and was gone the next. As if touching me came at a price.
We left the library in silence, our footsteps soft against the marble floors. The vast corridors of the manor seemed even larger now, the candlelight casting long shadows that stretched like reaching hands along the walls…as if they too wanted a piece of me. I felt the quiet pulse of the house around us, ancient and alive, every sound echoing my own heartbeat.
He walked beside me, close enough that I could feel the faint warmth radiating from him, but not close enough to touch. It was strange how safe I felt in that quiet space between us, though I knew I shouldn’t. The predator who had once haunted my dreams was now my escort through this lavish prison.
Neither of us spoke, but I could feel him thinking, feel the storm in him trying to keep still. I didn’t dare break the moment, afraid any sound might scatter it, so I let the silence stretch until we reached the corridor I recognised as mine.
We stopped outside my door, the one he hadn’t once locked me behind. A cell I wasn’t brave enough to try to escape from. Or was there something more? Did I even want to leave? It was like reading a book to the last chapter but throwing it away before the last few pages had been read.
I wanted to know the end of the story.
I wanted to know him.
He turned toward me, his face half hidden by that mask of his, and I realized it wasn’t just the end of his story I wanted to know. I wanted revealed…but it was all of him.For a moment, neither of us moved, and I found myself searching his expression for something, maybe for the man behind the monster.
“Sleep well, Nessa,” he said softly, his voice deeper now, quieter.
I nodded, clutching the door handle, though I didn’t open it.
“Good night, Vas.” He turned as if to leave, but then paused. His head tilted slightly, and his next words came out low, the kind that seemed to linger in the air long after they were spoken.
“But if you don’t…” he said, pausing as if needing to force himself to speak the rest,
“…if the dreams return…just call out my name again.”
My breath caught. He looked at me for a heartbeat longer, his dark blue eyes glinting with something I couldn’t place. Something that felt almost human. I opened my mouth to speak, to thank him, but he was already gone.
The echo of his footsteps faded down the corridor until there was only silence again. I leaned back against the door, my heart still racing, my mind spinning.
Call his name.
Had I done that? Had I actually called for him in my sleep?
And if I had, why him? Why not Victor or Tal, the two men I had already given my heart to? The ones I knew must besearching for me even now, terrified of what might have become of me?
Why him, the brother they had never spoken of? The one who had once sworn vengeance against them all. I pressed my fingers to my lips, feeling the echo of his presence still clinging to me, the scent of old books and smoke and something darker, something forbidden.
And as I climbed into bed, one thought refused to leave me.
If monsters weren’t born but made…then perhaps this one wasn’t beyond saving.
