Page 84 of Bewitched By a Vampire

His fangs had been down and crimson had ringed his irises.

Bydeal, she had imagined Antoine meantkillingher. He would kill her if she hurt his cousin again.

That had set her on edge and when Night had come out of the shower, she had been too afraid of his cousin’s wrath to look at him. She had hidden in her books, staying tucked up on the armchair even when Night had looked at her.

For five solid minutes.

She knew he had wanted her to look at him, but fear had gotten the better of her. Fear of Antoine’s retribution. Fear that if she went to Night and tried to curl up beside him to sleep that he would reject her. Fear that some part of him was still angry with her and blamed her for what had happened to him.

Fear that he hated her now because she was a witch.

It had all been too much for her tired mind and wounded heart to handle. Her emotions had run amok, and she hadn’t had the strength to put her foot down and scream at herself that Night didn’t hate her. He wasn’t angry with her. He didn’t blame her.

He wanted her close to him.

It had been easier to drown in despair.

She had dozed off in the armchair, succumbing to sleep, and had woken with a cricked neck and a slightly more positive attitude. Only slightly. She still worried what Night thought of her now.

Night went to the refrigerator, opened it and took out a canister. He unscrewed the lid and downed the contents, grimacing the entire time. Was drinking cold blood the equivalent to eating cold leftovers? Not nearly as satisfying as eating the meal when it was fresh and hot.

He set the empty metal container down on the counter beside his left hip. She stared at it as she searched for something to say, needing to break the ice between them.

“Are you healing well?” She glanced at him and found him staring off into the distance above her head, looking a thousand miles away from her.

Maybe he hadn’t come here to talk to her. Maybe he was only here because he had been hungry when he had awoken, like her. He probably hadn’t expected to find her here and now he didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t want to be around her. She tried to silence that voice of her deepest fears, but found yet again that she didn’t have the strength.

Her feelings for Night stripped it from her.

She loved him.

It had taken Sera saying it to make her see that she was way past falling for Night. She loved him and now Sera and Elissa, and Antoine, knew it and Night didn’t and she feared Antoine would say something and then Night would know and she wasn’t ready for him to know. Not yet. Not until she knew how he felt about her.

“I should probably get out of your way. Give you some peace.” She pushed the chair back and stood.

Night’s gaze snapped down to her, his eyes narrowed briefly and then he ran a hand over his mussed dark hair. “I’m just a little tired.”

He was lying to her.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to pretend things are the same between us, Night. I know they’ve changed. Maybe it would be best if I… if I stayed somewhere—” Before she could finish her sentence, Night was before her, the dark slashes of his eyebrows meeting hard above his crimson-ringed eyes.

“No.” He moved around her and blocked the exit.

“No?” She stared up into his eyes, unsure what was happening, caught up in a maelstrom all over again and afraid of misinterpreting him and getting hurt.

“No.” His tone softened and the hard edge to his expression faded into a tender look. “I’m sorry. If I made you feel you did something wrong… I’m sorry. It isn’t you, Lilian. Gods, I don’t want you to leave. Don’t leave.”

He reached for her and she remained where she was and let him stroke her cheek, savouring the comforting touch and the way his eyes became pure aquamarine as he gave her a look that made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

As if he adored her.

Loved her.

“What’s wrong then?” She lifted her hand and covered his with it, holding his palm to her cheek because she was afraid he would steal his touch away from her before she was ready. She needed him to keep touching her, to chase the darkness from her heart and her mind, to fill her with light and warmth again and reassure her that nothing between them had changed.

“I’m worried about my brothers.” The earnest look in his eyes as he said that revealed how deeply he loved his family, and the edge of fear in their depths told her that he was genuinely afraid for his brothers. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I’m sorry I got you caught up in all this. I’m sorry my coven hurt you like that… I’m sorry that I hurt you too.” She leaned into his palm as a weight settled on her heart. “This last month… I don’t know. Things have been so different in my life and I’m not really… I don’t really know…” She didn’t know how to speak, apparently.

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