Page 4 of Barely Breathing

The floor creaks with each step as I cross toward it. Candlelight from the candelabra dances over my reflection. I’m a hot mess. Wild curls tumble over my shoulders in a tangle that would take hours to tame with a hair straightener. Shadows sit heavy under my eyes, their bluish tint a stark contrast to the paleness of my skin. I trail my hands down my arms, brushing over faint scars that remind me of battles I didn’t think I’d survive.

The white nightgown I’m wearing isn’t mine.The fabric clings too perfectly, the neckline dipping lower than comfort, and I feel exposed knowing the vampire chose it for me. I try not to think about his hands undressing me, putting me to bed while I was mesmerized.

I don’t look right.

I remember the feel of Costin’s teeth as he drank from me. The amulet protects me, but I still feel my neck and check my teeth for fangs. Everything appears normal, but something about being underground inside what feels like a pharaoh’s tomb makes my skin itch. Blood and shadows—that’s the currency of his world, and somehow, I’ve become caught up in both.

Older powers are stirring, ancient magics that make even vampires seem young. I can feel them pressing against the edges of reality, drawn by something. By me? By the amulet? By whatever the wolves are up to?

Maybe I’m being dramatic. My awareness of Draakmar is still new, and I might be picking up on his primeval fears.

The door opens before I can fully gather my scattered thoughts. The hinges barely make a sound, but the subtle whisper of air shifting as the door swings open prickles the fine hairs on my arms. Costin steps inside, and despite my anger, my body responds to his presence. The nightgown suddenly feels too thin,and I resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest as his gaze travels over me with predatory intensity.

It’s not fair how he can command attention just by existing, how the very air seems to charge with electricity when he enters a room. Even after mesmerizing me against my will, part of me still wants to trace the sharp line of his jaw with my fingers, to feel if his skin is as cool as I remember. The memory of his touch ripples across my skin, and I hate how my pulse quickens in response.

Costin moves with vampiric grace. Vampires are the perfect predators, soundlessly stalking and eternally beautiful. It’s not fair. What chance does a mortal woman have against a man like this?

His steps are quiet, but I hear the faint rustle of fabric. His movements’ elegant, controlled rhythm reminds me of a dance we’ve been performing since the first time he kissed me. Every instinct tells me to back away, yet I find myself swaying toward him, drawn by that magnetic pull that’s always existed between us.

Shadows carve the sharp angles of his face, from high cheekbones and a strong jaw to lips curled into their usual smirk. There’s that primal energy that attracts me to him. I know there is a dark side to him. He needs human blood to live. He’s killed. I used to mock women who fell for such monsters in movies and books. And, yet here I am, living the real-life version, fighting an attraction that feels as inevitable as gravity.

I’m a fucking mess. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Every step deeper into this supernatural world costs me something dear—my normalcy, my independence, my ability to pretend I’m just another human. But staying away costs even more. I’ve tried running from what I am and who I am. All it’s done is endanger others. Maybe that’s the real price—knowing that someone gets hurt no matter what I choose.

The flickering light catches Costin’s long black hair. His eyes, dark and fathomless, hold a flicker of crimson, a warning I’ve learned not to ignore. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored waistcoat and black trousers. The fabric clings to his broad shoulders and lean frame like it was tailored for him, and knowing Costin, it probably was.

He’s as beautiful as he is terrifying.

A shiver works over me. There is no doubt I’m attracted to the vampire, to that darkness inside him. He represents everything I’ve fought so hard to distance myself from. He’s a master vampire—powerful, feared, immortally beautiful, and seductive. His dark eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the silence between us is deafening.

I have questions.

He has secrets.

“You’re awake.” His voice rolls through the room like smoke. There’s an irresistible pull in his tone that wraps around me and tightens before I realize I’m holding my breath. “Good.”

“How long?” I ask, my throat dry.

“A week.”

The air changes and becomes heavy with unspoken tension. My pulse quickens as I search his face for answers, but his expression is as unreadable as ever, and I’m left guessing what he’s thinking.

“You needed rest,” he says, stepping closer. “Your human body needed time to recover from?—”

“Where’s Paul?” I demand, my voice firm despite the tightness in my chest. “Why did the werewolves take him? I need to find him. A week? That’s far too long.”

I shake my head.

Clearly annoyed, Costin’s lips tighten into a thin line. “What’s your plan, Tamara? Storm the werewolves’ territory and demand their Alpha return Paul to you?”

“I have to try,” I snap, the guilt and desperation rising. “I owe it to him.”

I think of his daughter, Diana, and my heart beats faster with worry. She’s with her grandparents in Kansas City, and Paul said she doesn’t remember me. I have to believe she’s safe for now.

Costin’s gaze narrows. I wonder if he can readmy thoughts. I don’t think so, but there are rumors about just how much power vampires have. He doesn’t speak, but the silence feels heavier than any argument.

He moves in a blur to close the distance between us until he stands before me. The proximity sends my pulse to racing. His nearness is intoxicating and dangerous. My body instinctively knows what my mind refuses to acknowledge. This man could kill me with little effort.

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