Page 70 of A Debt of Darkness

IVY

Henry gazes down at me as if I’ve given him everything he ever dreamed of and more. It’s pure devotion, unadulterated adoration, and complete love. He doesn’t blink, transfixed by me as I stare at my fingertips brushing his face.

His skin is soft and it contrasts with his sharp features. I trace the lines of his face and he doesn’t move. He’s holding still, for me. Henry’s letting me spiral as he keeps the center steady, putting my emotions and needs before his own.

I’m fucking terrified.

He’s still staring at me as if I’m the center of his world and I’m wondering if I can escape his orbit. He’s shown me what lies beneath and now I’m swimming for the surface, drowning in the darkness overcoming me.

The light catches his fangs and it’s a sharp reminder of allhe is. Predatory. Vicious. Lethal. Vampiric in name and nature.

I don’t want to believe it.

Part of me screams it can’t be true.

But my heart and head agree. Both are certain. Both are sure. As unbelievable as what Henry just told me, I know it’s true. My bones feel it, my lungs breathe it, and my blood sings that this is real. The masquerade is over and all that remains is what’s underneath the mask.

My focus shifts and I watch his fucking massive fangs. They’re as alarming as when I first saw them. When I thought I was hallucinating. They’re worse than any fictional portrayal and they’re designed to pierce, wound, and drain.

They look efficient. Effective. Perfectly engineered.

Fuck, they’re vicious.

“Henry?”

“Yes, Ivy.”

“Do you drink…” My voice trails off.

Henry doesn’t arch his eyebrow when he would at any other time. “Blood?” he asks, waiting until I nod. “Yes. Mostly human, but I can survive on any blood. It’s a bit like meat.”

I close my eyes a fraction longer than I need to and he pauses.

“Ask me, Ivy. Ask what you’re afraid of asking.”

He’s read my thoughts with unnerving accuracy. I don’t want to face this but I need to know the answer. Otherwise, there’s no certainty, no framework, no roadmap to follow. I’m lost and I can’t find my way through this unless he tells me what I need to know.

“Do you want to drink mine?”

“Yes.” Henry waits and my heart settles. “You’re my mate, Ivy. You’re perfect for me. The smell alone is heaven.”

I’m numb and unable to think, while a thousand questions spiral through my consciousness. I’m barely keeping up with myself and I’m simultaneously frozen, unable to speak or think or feel.

“Ask, Ivy.”

“Would you? Have you? Why would you? What if I don’t want it? What if you can’t not? Can’t stop?”

Henry smiles and it’s heartbreaking.

“Slow down. I crave your blood, lea, but I’ll only taste it with your permission. Only if it’s given of your own free will,” Henry says, briefly looking away. “Except for one day. Just one time. At our wedding. We needed to exchange blood to complete the ceremony. I tasted a little of yours and I let you taste a little of mine. It was a necessity to keep you safe. You’d have been in terrible danger otherwise.”

I nod my head, failing to understand how he could do this. He’s taken something from me and it’s a hurt unlike any I’ve known. It’s a knife twisting in my chest and I feel used. Manipulated. Betrayed.

Henry’s stolen so much from me. I can’t even begin to quantify how much I’ve lost. My wedding day. My freedom. My choices. My degree. My life as I knew it and my friends. My future. I’ve been given something else. I don’t know if I would have chosen this if I’d had the choice.

“That’s why the ceremony wasn't normal,” I say, finally understanding. “The way I lost myself… and the ribbons and the light-headedness…”

“They weren't ribbons, lea. The priest bound our souls together, and you saw and felt life and light flowing between us. I am yours. You are mine. We are mates and we were destined to find each other and have this.”

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