Page 13 of The Love Bitten Series: Vol 2

“But only because fate stuck you with me,” I cried, tears starting to cascade down my cheeks in earnest.

“It’s as I suspected. You overheard part of my conversation with Jareth.” I didn’t understand why, but he seemed thrilled by the fact that I’d found out about the woman he’d put on a pedestal so long ago. “But you missed the most important part.”

I quirked a brow and muttered, “I highly doubt I failed to hear anything that matters.”

“I beg to differ, my darling.” The arrogant man dared to flash a smug grin at me, and my palm itched to slap it right off his gorgeous face. “You never would have run if you heard me explain to my brother how it’s impossible to compare what I feel for you to—”

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed, cutting him off since the last thing I wanted was for him to try to explain to me how what he felt for me meant more to him because of the consort bond. “I heard enough to learn that you loved someone else before me. That I’m your second choice. To wonder if you pictured another woman while we had sex.”

“Never.” He took a step back as though my accusation had rocked him to his core. “I can’t even wrap my brain around the idea of fucking someone else, let alone fantasizing about another woman while I have you beneath me. You’re the only woman I’ve ever desired.”

“Well, whoop dee doo. I guess that’s one thing I can be grateful for,” I drawled, sarcasm thick in my tone. “I hope you can forgive me, but I refuse to be your consolation prize just because I can get your dick hard.”

“I grew up with Barbra and cared for her as a friend, but my feelings were entirely platonic. You already know that my body didn’t desire her and never would have, even if we’d touched.” He tapped his index finger against his temple. “But my brain never did either. She was my friend and nothing more.”

A kernel of hope sprung to life deep inside me, but none of what he was saying made any sense. “If she was just your friend, why did you think she was destined to be your consort?”

“I’m not sure I can explain this very well, but I'd do literally anything to get you to understand how much you mean to me.” Liam heaved a deep breath and scrubbed his palms down his face. “When I was a young boy, I grew close to Thaddeus, one of my great-great-uncles. I got my fascination with whiskey from him. He had a distillery set up in a shack on his property, and I’d spend hours on end watching him fiddle with his recipe. But when I was sixteen, Thaddeus decided that he couldn’t face another century without finding the other half of his soul.”

Although the story he was sharing with me dated back five hundred years, I gasped and pressed my fingers against my lips. I knew how this part was going to end even though it boggled my mind since killing a daywalker was nearly impossible.

Liam nodded and flashed me a sad smile, “As you already guessed, he killed himself. I’m not sure how he got his hands on one since they weren’t in use much back then, but during a long weekend while I was away on holiday with my parents, he installed a guillotine in his home. Then he set fire to the place and beheaded himself while the flames closed in on him. When I came to visit the next day, the shack with his distillery was the only thing left standing on his property. I was devastated and didn’t have anything else to remember him by, so my parents moved it to our home.”

After all the time that had passed, I could still hear the pain of loss in his tone. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” He shook his head, most likely trying to shake loose his sad memories. “But his death is a large part of why I was so fixated on the possibility of Barbra being my destined consort. She was human and unaware of vampires, so she thought my melancholy was strictly due to the loss of a beloved family member. As my friend, she tried to pull me out of the dark place I’d retreated to, but it wasn’t until almost a full year later when the daywalker who lived on the other side of her home found his consort that I shook off my grief.”

Transfixed by his story, I took a tentative step forward.

“All of the fated pairings I’d seen before had resulted in romantic love, but their connection was one of devoted and committed friends.” He closed the small gap that remained between us. “Terrified of the possibility that my fate would be the same as Thaddeus, I grabbed on to the idea of having the same kind of bond with Barbra and refused to let go. With the style of clothes women wore back then, I’d never seen her neck but was convinced she must have the consort marking. Rumors swirled around about an inappropriate dalliance with a suitor when she was sixteen, but I ignored them. I refused to listen to reason and bided my time until she turned eighteen, certain that I would explain daywalkers to her, and then I’d be safely bonded. No need to worry about feeling as though my only option was to follow in Thaddeus’s footsteps except for making whiskey.”

Remembering what Jareth had said about her rejecting him, I asked, “But it didn’t turn out that way?”

“Not even close.” His chuckle held no humor. “Barbra ran screaming from me as though I was the very devil, and I was too shocked to chase after her. Nothing had gone as I expected, and when she died a dozen years later, I assumed that she took my chance at being safe from the darkness that plagued Thaddeus with her. But then you stumbled into my arms and blew all of my ill-conceived notions out of the water.”

I clutched his biceps, butterflies starting to swirl in my belly. “You really, truly never felt anything more than friendship for her?”

“I did not.” He flashed me a sheepish grin. “And if you’d stuck around to eavesdrop a little longer, you would have heard me tell Jareth that she’s nothing more than a fond childhood memory. You have nothing to fear in regards to Barbra or any other woman. It took no time at all for me to realize that our bond would be much deeper than friendship. Consort or not, you’re the only one for me. I love you, Amaia.”

“I love you, too.” When I ran from his home, I’d been convinced that nothing he could say would fix the hole in my heart. “I’m so sorry I misunderstood the situation and didn’t stick around to talk to you about what I’d heard. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s not as though I have room to judge you for the blunder, my darling. I’ve stubbornly held on to my misconception for five hundred years, after all.” He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my body before teleporting us to his family room. “My brothers and cousins are going to taunt me over my bullheadedness for centuries to come, and it doesn’t bother me even a little bit. I’ve never been happier to be wrong about something.”

8

LIAM

Amaia glanced around the family room, and her face lit up. She pulled out of my arms, and I reluctantly let her go because she was clearly excited about something.

“Your presents!” she exclaimed as she pointed at the packages wrapped in bright colors stacked on the sofa. Not wanting to put a damper on her mood or seem ungrateful, I mentally sighed at being forced to wait a little longer for what I really wanted for Christmas.

In the blink of an eye, our bodies—soaked from the heavily falling snow—were clean and dry. Our wet clothes disappeared and were replaced with fresh ones. Festive red silk pajama pants for me and—I grinned salaciously when Amaia looked down at her outfit—a short, matching silk robe for her. Underneath was one of the gifts I’d given her that morning. A pair of barely-there, cream lacy panties under a wide band of cream silk that circled her hips and tied in the back right above her sexy ass. The top was the same thing, a silk sash that barely contained her gorgeous breasts, except the bow was in the front.

I couldn’t wait to unwrap her.Best. Present. Ever.

Amaia rolled her eyes when she peeked inside the robe, but her lips curved a bit, and crimson spots loomed on her cheeks. “Come and open your gifts,” she said breathlessly. A wicked smile slid across my face, and Amaia’s adorable blush deepened. “These,” she giggled, gesturing to the stack again.

“Whatever you want, darling.” With a flick of my hand, a fire roared to life in the fireplace, and I sat on the couch, patting the spot next to me. She narrowed her eyes and perched on the other end. I couldn’t help grinning at her perceptiveness. If she’d come close enough, I would have pounced and made her forget about everything but hunger for the pleasure only I could give her.

---