Page 118 of Mortal Blood
He raked his hand through his hair, paced a few steps, and then whirled back to me. “You have to understand—”
He shook his head and turned away again, pacing a few more steps. “It’s not about you, it’s—I mean, it is, but only because—”
He let out of a hiss of frustration and came to a stop right in front of me. “Sweetness, I’m the fuck up, okay? Not you. I pushed you away becauseIwas weak, not because you are.”
His eyes found mine, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “After everything I went through before, I thought getting addicted to your blood was the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. Until I turned up here, and I couldn’t find you. I thought you were— I thought thoseanimalshad—”
He broke off and turned his head away sharply. “I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you,” he said softly.
“Why?” I demanded. “Because your bloodbag would be gone? That’s all I am to you, right? You made it clear enough over the last few months. Filthy little dhampir, good for a quick fuck in the library and nothing else?”
He drew back like I’d slapped him. “No. I don’t feel that way.”
“Really? Because you could have fooled me.” I exhaled sharply and crossed my arms over my chest. “You saw what you were doing to me, and you didn’t care.”
“I did care, sweetness. Idocare.”
“Right. I heard the things all the vamps in the feeding den called me.”
“And did you ever hearmecall you those things?” he asked,his eyes flicking over the spot I was in.
“I—”
“I don’t care what you are. I carewhoyou are. The first woman I’ve ever cared about like this. And I pushed you away because you deserve better.”
“Better than a prince?” I arched a brow.
“Better than an addict.”
I swallowed as his eyes cut away again, and he forced them back, seemingly with great effort.
“I don’t have any right to ask you to feel for me what I feel for you, not after what I’ve done, I know that. But I hate the way that things are between us, sweetness. I hate that I let them get this bad, and I know it’s on me. I won’t ask you to give me another shot, but do you ever think you could forgive me, as a friend?”
I stared at him, the man who’d scared me, excited me, empowered me, and then broken my heart. And I wanted to hate him. Because dammit, Ideservedto be able to hate this asshole after everything he’d put me through.
But I didn’t. Couldn’t. Because the fear and hurt in his eyes was as real as any I’d felt.
“If you ever hurt me again, I will kill you,” I promised him.
“If I ever hurt you again, you won’t have to,” he vowed. “I’m not asking you to love me, but I will always love you. You are the bravest, fiercest,most infuriatingly stubbornwoman I have ever met, and I will take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”
I reached up towards his face, and his eyes tracked my movement, then widened. I froze at the exact same moment,staring at the hand that he was staring at. My eyes darted to him.
“Wait. Can you see me now?”
He swallowed a ragged breath. “And what a sight you are.”
Then his eyes zeroed in on my calf and narrowed.
“You’ve been bleeding this whole time and you didn’t bother to tell me?”
“Well, we were kinda busy. Anyway, I figured you could just smell it.”
He growled impatiently. “This whole area reeks of broken bodies. Sit.”
I sat beside Cole and allowed him to roll up what remained of my pants leg. He crouched beside me and looked the still-bleeding wound over with a practiced eye.
“It’s small but deep,” he said. “I could seal it with my saliva…if you want.”
