Page 47 of Waltzing With Witches

And still so deeply, madly, wildly in love.

I never thought being in love could hurt so badly after so much time, but my heart aches, and my stomach is tight and uncomfortable. Bringing my head down, I bury my face in her hair and drag in a hit of her scent even though I shouldn’t.

Candlelight, chocolate, and whiskey fill the forefront of my mind, populating immediate visions of her naked beneath me, on top of me, beside me. I groan without meaning to, and she stiffens, fingers tightening around my neck.

Her legs thread more tightly through mine, her body rubbing against me. Hot shards of pleasure streak through my core, thirst building as my fangs descend. Her beautiful neck is right there. Biting her as we fly would be the ultimate pleasure, and I could take it right this very moment.

I choke down a needier, harder groan and slip my hand up her chest, wrapping my fingers lightly around her throat. Resting my fingertips over her pulse, I focus on the steady thump of her heart. It’s fast, much faster than mine. What would it feel like to sink my fangs into her and feel that blood splash against my teeth and soak my tongue?

My cock hardens, throbbing against my thigh as I imagine taking Morgan’s blood for the first time.

We swoop toward the forest. My wings are too wide to fly straight through the trees, so at the last second, I flip us sideways. Morgan screams, the sound echoing along my fingers and yanking on my cock. Vampires are naturally predatory to, well, everything else. Most of us are civilized in this day and age, but I will always prefer to chase her.

Trees whip past us in a blur until I find the clearing I want, touching down on the ground. I set her gently on her feet, but she doesn’t step away. Instead, her hands fall to my chest as she turns to look at me.

“Why do we have to have this conversation here?” she questions. “Why not at the castle?”

We’re having the conversation here because, out here, I can focus on logic. Out here, I’m not one door away from a bedroom. Out here, I can attempt to be rational.

“You don’t trust me, and I’ve given you no real reason to,” I say with a shrug, stepping away and slipping my hands into my pockets. “Let’s talk about what you saw, Morgan. I’ll answer any questions you have.”

She shakes her head as she crosses both arms, leaning against a pine tree. “Nuh-uh. I know what I saw happen, and I hate your mother more than ever. What I want to know is why you were so determined not to involve me.”

I gesture at myself. “This is me all the time, Morgan. I’m not the man you met that evening. I’m not capable of regulating others’ emotions and responding to them. I left you in a diner because the castle called me, and it did not occur to me that it might upset you. Even now, instead of worrying about how you’ll react to this conversation, I’m playing out all the possible ways it might end so I can plan for that.”

“Jesus H,” she barks. “Why is it that all other Keepers are required to be mated, then, if you’ve got the emotional wherewithal of a rock?”

That stings, but she’s not wrong.

“For the average Keeper, their mates help them learn to emotionally regulate. It makes them more effective. But I’ll never take a mate,” I state, praying my voice doesn’t break.

Instead, something deep inside me shatters as I say the words, watching a myriad of emotions play over her elegant features.

“Why?” She seems barely able to get the word out, which makes my chest go tight and numb. “Is it because of how she forced you? That was…awful.”

This is it, the moment I’ve dreaded since I first saw her on Main Street. Seeing her for the first time in fifty years nearly broke me, and it took me hours to call a town meeting, knowing I’d have to push her away.

“Evenia is a terrible person, save for the fact that she thought up the haven system and helped organize it into being. She’s a brilliant strategist; I should have seen it coming.”

“You were going to call me, though,” Morgan whispers.

“I was.” I suck in a slow, steadying breath. “Even after the transition, I was more emotional than most keepers. I struggled to deal with it during training. I didn’t want you to deal with what a Keeper’s life is, but then I got this.” I stroke my left hand down the scar running from my left eye to my mouth.

“What happened?”

And this is it. The most important of all reasons why I can’t keep Morgan, not in the way she deserves to be kept.

I drop the final bomb fast. “I’m sick, Morgan. That’s the rest of what I would have told you last night. It’s not the reason I pushed you away to begin with, but it’s the reason I’ve fought so hard to push you away since.”

Confusion fills her expression as I try to compartmentalize her responses to understand them.

Brows furrowing, she looks up. “Sick? What do you mean?”

I sigh as I launch into a secret I’ve kept for nearly a hundred years.

“Keeper training lasts about a year, and we remain at the academy at Hearth HQ for that time. Part of the time is spent living in a training haven there, monitoring the wards and such. One day, while patrolling, I discovered an injured harpy outside the wards. Something had attacked her, and while the injury wasn’t that bad, she’d lost some blood and passed out.

“I picked her up and carried her home, but when she came to, she was frightened and defensive. She attacked me, and I got this during the scuffle.”

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