Page 17 of Forever Bound

I hiccup again as a reply, and he raises an eyebrow and leaves me for a moment to open the drawer by the bed. He pulls out two crystal glasses and a bottle of clear liquid, then pours each of us a generous cup.

"Drink," he says, handing it to me. "It will warm your body and loosen your tongue, if that is what you wish."

That sounds ominous.

So naturally I do as he says. We clink glasses and I drink deeply and nearly spit it all out. "This is vodka," I say.

He nods, not even flinching as he drinks. Is this a Russian thing or a vampire-god thing?

"You know I've hardly eaten in days. If I drink this, I'll be sick."

He frowns. "It has been so long since my own humanity that I have forgotten how many needs you have to keep you alive." He sets his cup down. "Give me a moment. I will return and then we will talk, and you will try to convince me of your monstrous nature, and I will show you how wrong you are."

His words send shivers down my spine. If only I could latch onto them and believe that they were true.

I gingerly sip at the vodka while I wait for him to return, and I consider what my life is going to look like moving forward. I'm bonded to a vampire? This means I'll likely have to become a vampire, right? This is so freaking weird.

Which is, like, the understatement of the year. And also feels perverse. Why should I be the one to live forever after all I've done?

Ivan returns with a platter of food so tantalizing my eyes nearly pop out of my head. "Where did you get that?" I ask. "Certainly not from that place you call a kitchen." I shudder at the memory of the eyeballs in a glass jar.

He grins. "I have my ways, which I will elaborate on once you finish telling me your secrets." He places the tray on a table in front of the fireplace, and I join him as we each take a chair.

I fill my belly in silence, while he waits patiently, watching me with unreadable eyes. His mere presence calms something inside me that hasn't felt settled in six long, hellish years.

He makes me feel safe. Loved. Accepted.

Let's see if that's still true after what I tell him.

I finish my meal—a delicious mix of vegetables, meats, berries, and some kind of tart—and down the rest of my vodka. He smirks and refills both of our glasses.

The heat of the liquor burns through my veins, and I feel myself falling into that strange place we go when too much alcohol is consumed.

Ivan was right. This is loosening my tongue.

I reach over and pat his head. "You aren't going to like me very much after this," I tell him confidently, and my sadness creeps through our bond.

But he just shakes his head. "You tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine. We'll see who likes whom when this night is done."

"Fair enough," I say. Though I'm pretty sure I will definitely come out in the naughty corner compared to the hero before me who risks his life nightly to protect a village who blames him for the deaths.

Anyways.

Here goes.

"Six years ago, my parents and little sister helped me pack up our car and trailer so we could all drive from Utah, where we lived, to Los Angeles, where I was meant to start college. I was the first person in my family to go to college, so it was a big deal, and everyone was really proud and excited. My mom and dad were going to share the driving, but I argued with them. I was an adult and I wanted to be the one to drive myself to college. I'd had my license for a year, and I felt confident I could make the trip, no problem. They didn't want me to do it. They thought I wasn't ready, but I insisted. I went so far as to tell them I would go by myself if they didn't let me. I was a complete brat." I pause, emotion choking my throat, and I take another swig of vodka.

Ivan listens patiently, with a stillness that no human could master.

I suck in a breath and continue. "Long story short, they gave into my temper tantrum and let me drive. My mom had it all mapped out. She's detail oriented that way. But I've always had an instinct for directions, and I knew there was a shorter way. So while they were sleeping, I took a shortcut, knowing it would trim a few hours off our trip. I was excited to surprise them when they woke up."

A sob breaks in my throat, and tears burn my eyes, but I grit my jaw, take another shot, and keep talking. "They were surprised all right," I say with a sardonic laugh. "It started to rain. A true storm. And my shortcut had a hairpin turn I wasn't expecting. I took it too fast, the roads were too slick, and our car ran off the cliff."

Breathe. Just breathe. In and out. Ivan places a hand on mine, the weight of it a reassurance I don't deserve, but I selfishly take in anyways. "It's all a blur. The screaming. The crying. My little sister shrieking. And then the silence. When I woke, the car was totaled, and they were all dead. I was the only one left alive. It took hours for rescuers to find us. I couldn't move. I was too badly injured. I could only lie there with my dead family, staring into their open eyes."

Finally I look up and into Ivan's eyes. I need to see the moment he turns away from me. The moment he recognizes what kind of woman he bonded to. "I killed them. My selfishness and stubbornness and recklessness killed them. I'm a monster."

Ivan moves closer to me, spreading his legs so that mine are between his. He reaches for my face, caressing the scars on my cheek with a gentle finger. "You are not a monster, Love," he says. "You are still an Angel. My Angel. You made a mistake, as we all do. But you didn't kill your family, an accident did. It wasn't your fault. And they wouldn't want you to spend your life blaming yourself for this. They would undoubtedly want you to live a happy and fulfilled life, would they not?"

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