Page 17 of Vampire Bite

I pushed through a tangle of branches, spotting a small clearing up ahead. Feverroot liked damp, shaded places, and this patch of ground was perfect. My fingers brushed against a cluster of spindly, dark green leaves, the faintest shimmer of blue running through the veins.

There it was. I crouched down, carefully pulling a few sprigs free. The herb was delicate and temperamental, but I didn’t have time to be gentle.

I straightened, holding the feverroot in my hand, feeling its faint warmth against my skin. With luck, it would help her, maybe buy her time to recover. Maybe… maybe enough time to see what was between us. Because no matter how I looked at it, there was no one else in the world who’d made me feel the way she did.

But as I turned back toward the cabin, a dark voice inside me reminded me of the truth: even if I managed to keep her here a little longer, she was never really mine to begin with. And someday, when she healed, when she was strong enough, she would leave—back to her world, back to whoever was waiting for her.

When I returned, she was sitting up on the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, looking pale but slightly more alert. Relief flooded through me at the sight of her awake.

She looked up as I closed the door, her eyes narrowed in question. “Where did you go?”

I held up the small bunch of herbs I’d spent the last hour tracking down. “Just out,” I said, shrugging. “To get something to help bring your fever down.”

Her brows knitted together as she watched me grind the feverroot leaves and pour hot water over them, the sharp scent filling the room. When the tea was done, I brought it over to her and handed her the mug, watching her face as she took a tentative sip.

The instant the liquid hit her tongue, her expression twisted in disgust, and she almost spat it out. “That’s terrible,” she muttered, grimacing. “How is this supposed to help anyone?”

A laugh escaped me—couldn’t help it. “Yeah, it’s awful. But trust me, it works. Just try to get it down. It’s good for you.”

She glared at the mug like it had personally wronged her but took another sip anyway, braving the bitterness. I couldn’t help but feel a strange sort of admiration for her; even in her weakened state, she was still tough, pushing through the things she didn’t like without complaint. Well, not much of one, anyway.

As she drank, I sat beside her on the edge of the couch, the warmth between us electric and grounding. She didn’t say anything, but the way her gaze softened, the way her lips finally parted in a small, reluctant smile… it was everything I needed.

I watched her eyes linger on me as she set down the cup, her nose wrinkled from the bitterness of the tea. I couldn’t resist… I leaned in with a smirk on my face.

“You know,” I said, keeping my voice low and dead serious, “I could’ve made it worse. Some people add raw eggs to help mask the taste.”

She stared at me, horrified. “You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all,” I replied, widening my eyes in mock sincerity. “Eggs. Maybe some fermented garlic. Vampires have been brewing it like that for centuries. Really puts hair on your chest.”

Her mouth dropped open, but then she caught on, and allowed a laugh to break free despite herself. The sound filled theroom, warm and light, and I could feel a knot of tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding start to loosen. Seeing her like this, relaxed, the worry in her eyes melting away, brought a feeling I couldn’t quite name. Still, that settled deep inside, spreading warmth to the places I’d almost forgotten could feel it.

“You’re a terrible liar, Lucas,” she said, shaking her head, but she was still smiling, her cheeks flushed.

I just shrugged, unable to hide my own grin. “Maybe. But at least I got you to finish the tea.”

She rolled her eyes, but another laugh slipped out. Then, she suddenly turned grave, as if she remembered something.

She looked at me, her eyes searching. “Do you think... Do you think the shifters’ slaves could be saved? All of them?”

I hesitated. I wanted to give her some kind of reassurance, but I’d learned long ago that empty words didn’t help.

“I don’t know,” I answered finally. “But I’m damn well going to try. I’ll fight until there’s nothing left of me if that’s what it takes.”

Her gaze softened, and I could feel her silently urging me to say more, to go deeper. And for some reason, with her, it was easier to let down my guard.

“I come from a long line of vampire leaders,” I began. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this, with just me. My clan… they were some of the oldest, some of the strongest.” I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to say the next part. “But they’re all gone now. I’m the last of my clan, the last with our particular gift.”

“What gift?” she asked quietly, her curiosity genuine, not like so many others who only wanted power or knowledge.

I looked at her, then away, knowing how dangerous it was to tell anyone about it. “My clan had the ability to manipulate shadows. We could turn them into forms, into weapons. It’s not a gift many know how to control,” I added, a dark smile forming. “The shifters—they want that power. They think theycan harness it, bend it to their will. But they don’t understand what it takes to wield it. They’d never survive.”

I felt her watching me, her eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and something close to sadness. “I suppose that’s why they’ve kept you here… why you keep fighting.”

I met her gaze, the weight of those words settling around us. “They can take everything from me, but they won’t take my soul. I won’t go down easily, not while I have something left to fight for.”

For a long moment, she said nothing, just took in everything I’d shared. There was no pity in her eyes, no fear… only the kind of quiet understanding that ran deeper than words.

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