Page 18 of Valentine's With A Vampire

A heartbeat passes, and the lantern dims. The swirling bubble collapses, leaving stardust drifting in the air. The orbdeflates, slumping to the ground like a wilted balloon. My mouth goes dry. That display was the festival’s final confirmation. The magic recognized we’d completed some cosmic step.

He jerks away, eyes widening, and body going rigid. I see panic flood his features before I can speak. He rolls off me, fumbling for his clothes. I flatten my hand against the floor in surprise.

He yanks on his pants, refusing to meet my eyes. The color drains from his face. “That means... you’re...” His voice shakes. “My... fated match? That’s what you said the lantern was for, right?”

I watch him, heart slamming behind my ribs. “That’s how it usually works.” My words wobble. “Maybe it just means we found something real.”

He stiffens, pressing his lips into a thin line. “You said illusions can’t force anything.” He drags his shirt on, hands trembling. “So, maybe that was real. Maybe it’s fate, but... No.”

His refusal stings like a slap. I sit upright, blanket sliding to my waist. My breathing feels ragged. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”

He avoids my gaze, scanning the small room for his jacket. “I can’t do this. This is too much. I can’t jump from a one-night stand to...fated love. I’m not prepared for that.”

My stomach twists. “Who said we have to define it right now? We can figure it out.”

He finds his jacket behind a crate and shrugs into it with clumsy haste. “The lantern literally just lit up like the Fourth of July. Everyone in town expects me to become your... I don’t know. Some fairy-tale romance. That’s insane.”

My heart clenches. “Wait.” I scramble to my feet. “Please don’t run.”

He rubs his face, turning half away. “I need air. Need to think.”

I reach for his arm, voice cracking. “This was real. Don’t shut me out.”

His eyes flick to mine for a split second. Agony flickers in those dark irises. He inhales sharply, pulling free of my grasp. “I’m sorry.”

He marches for the door. It unlocks easily, as if the block never existed. He wrenches it open, footsteps echoing into the corridor. The hush that remains feels suffocating.

The door swings shut behind him, leaving me alone, naked except for the blanket draped around my waist. Shock and confusion war inside me. The swirl of leftover golden sparks from the lantern fade into the darkness. A tremor starts in my fingertips, then moves up my arms.

I stare at the deflated orb on the floor. My chest constricts. The festival’s final reveal was supposed to be a moment of celebration, or at least acceptance. Instead, I’m alone, unsure if I messed up by letting down my guard.

I scramble for my clothes, heart pounding so hard it hurts. Each movement triggers the memory of his hands on me. The harsh contrast rips open an ache in my chest. My throat tightens around a whimper I won’t let escape. I will not break down. Not here. Not yet.

After fumbling with my clothes, I sink onto the blanket, knees pulled to my chest. The candle flickers, casting dancing shadows on the crates. My breathing slows as the tears threaten to spill. This is why I never let myself get involved with mortals. They run. They fear time. They fear me.

I smooth a hand across my mouth, recalling the taste of him. My mind replays the desperation in his voice when he realized the lantern’s meaning. That reaction wasn’t mild confusion. It was panic. Perhaps he spent so long in charge of his own fate that the idea of a cosmic bond is too big a leap.

A strangled sound bubbles in my throat. I rub my eyes, forcing composure. My bookstore is empty. The festival’s music hums faintly outside. The rest of Evershift Haven is celebrating. Declan is probably wandering the streets in shock. Maybe he’ll keep walking until the barrier loops him around again. Maybe I’ll see him in an hour. Maybe I won’t.

I stare at the deflated lantern. The leftover spark flickers once, then fizzles out. No illusions. No forced bond. Something real. My heart clenches again. Real or not, that doesn’t fix the heartbreak blooming in my chest.

I press my forehead against the crate, fighting tears. The intense joy from moments ago has shattered into confusion and pain. The hush envelops me, and I wonder if that’s the festival’s last trick—giving a taste of something profound, only to tear it away. Evershift’s magic can be cruel.

My lungs expand slowly, searching for equilibrium. There’s a fleeting urge to chase him and demand we talk. My pride flares. My wounded heart begs me to let him go. My mind reels from the swirl of emotional whiplash.

The candle flickers, nearly spent. Wax drips onto the crate, forming a small puddle that glistens in the final glow. I watch the droplet roll, mesmerized. Each second that passes cements the reality: he’s gone. For now, anyway.

I lift my head, fighting to gather my scattered feelings. My gaze settles on the ring of illusions that swirl just outside the small window, hearts drifting on the night breeze. Evershift Haven’s festival is still in full force. All that romantic energy mocks me in the starkness of this storeroom.

My voice emerges in a bitter whisper. “Declan, please come back.”

No reply. No footprints in the hall. No heavy sigh or knock at the door. Only emptiness. I exhale a ragged breath and force myself to stand, adjusting my clothes with trembling hands. Thetime for illusions is over. The festival’s glow might surround me, but inside, I feel the creeping chill of disappointment.

I gather my things, blow out the candle, and step into the corridor. The bookstore’s front room remains dim. The moment I cross the threshold, every sense begs me to search for him. My heart demands I do something. My mind warns me not to push him right now.

I walk to the shop’s front windows, pressing my palm against the cool glass. The Town Square is alive with music and dancing. The sight of couples spinning in the lantern-lit plaza sends a jolt of envy through me. My chest tightens again.

Tears threaten. I grit my teeth and wipe at my eyes with one sleeve. This is the risk I always avoided. The moment felt perfect. The aftermath is anything but. I stand there, leaning my forehead against the glass, letting the distant tunes of flutes and violins wash over me. My eyes scan the dancing crowd for his face. No sign of him.

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