Page 17 of How to Dump a Vampire

Revulsion twists my gut at this ingrained prejudice. Treterra is unique because it’s a kingdom ruled by vampires and one of the few fairly safe places for our species.

“There is no shame in what you have,” I vow fiercely. “The shame lies with those who are unwilling to controlthemselves.”

Her eyes glisten with surprise at my words. After a shocked moment, her lips curve into a tremulous but warm smile. “You are unlike any vampire I have met, Draven. My past isn’t what you expect, and it’s not something I’m willing to share with others. Don’t pity me. I’ve chosen this life, and I quite enjoy the little world I’ve built. I quite like the tea anyways. Why not sit and have a sip with me?”

Her words ring with quiet conviction, a subtle warning not to tread where I am unwelcome, yet curiosity leaves me unsatisfied.

As she takes another sip, I shift closer in the wooden chair, an elbow on the table, and lean toward her until I am near enough to feel the heat of her body. Thorn tenses but does not pull away or halt her clicking needles.

“You know so much of me,” I murmur low near her ear, “yet you remain an enigma.”

I reach out slowly, brushing back a raven lock that has escaped her braid. My fingertips graze her neck, feeling her quickened pulse. Still, she sips, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Does the tea truly satisfy?” I ask, trailing my fingers along her jaw. “Does a vampire never crave more?”

Thorn inhales sharply at my intimate touch, fingers faltering, and a small amount of tea splashes over the lip of her mug. The flickering firelight deepens the roses blooming on her cheeks.

“As with any creature, restraint is a choice.” Her voice remains steady, and her words ghost warm against my wrist.

I lean in closer, emboldened. “What of carnal yearnings? Does it help those too?”

My thumb caresses her chin. With my heightened senses, I can hear her heart thundering and smell the heady spice of arousal kindling beneath her skin. Still, Thorn does not pull away.

“Some hungers run too deep to be suppressed,” she whispers, slowly placing her drink on the table with a small thunk.

“And if such dangerous cravings arose?” I brush my lips against her temple, gritting back my own pounding need. “Would you surrender or resist?”

Thorn turns at last to face me. Her pupils are blown wide, lips parted, breaths coming fast, yet resolve glimmers in her fierce emerald gaze.

“I surrender only by choice.” Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling me closer. “Never by force.”

With that, she closes the distance between us. Her mouth claims mine in a searing kiss that steals my breath and scorches my very bones. I am lost, consumed by smoldering desire as she bares the truth of her passion. Here is the wild side she keeps locked away, unleashed at last by my reckless taunting.

Her touch ignites my body, and I find myself yielding completely. Consumed by Thorn’s fire, what remains but to burn?

Thorn’s kiss sears through me, volcanic and urgent. Her fingers twist almost painfully in my hair, pulling me against her petite but surprisingly strong form.

For a moment, I am lost, drowned by relentless waves of passion crashing through my senses, but slowly, an alarm bell cuts through the haze of desire. Something is off. Thorn trembles now, her gasping breaths tinged with fear, not craving.

With monumental effort, I pull back, breaking our frantic embrace.

Thorn stares at me wide-eyed, lips swollen from our kisses, before she turns away in shame. “Forgive me,” she rasps, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know what came over me. I never surrender control like that.”

Confused, I reach for her shoulder but stop myself short, unsure if my touch is wanted. “There is nothing to forgive, Thorn. I’m the one who pushed too far.”

Thorn shakes her head sharply. “It was weakness. I swore I would never… We can’t…” She trails off, refusing to meet my gaze.

The softly spoken words pierce my soul. My chest aches, seeing her torment. I want to pull her into my arms and soothe away whatever ghosts haunt her, but forcing intimacy now might only drive her further behind her walls.

So instead, I simply sit in quiet support, letting the crackling fire fill the tense silence. Thorn’s tremors slowly subside, tension draining from her slender frame, but she keeps her body angled away, the maintained distance heartbreaking.

Neither of us speaks further. An invisible wall between us has fallen. We move about the cottage with a newfound ease, chatting lightly as Thorn empties the cold tea kettle and prepares dinner. I notice she stands a bit closer now, angles her body more openly toward me as we talk. Each subtle shift thrills me.

Later, as we eat thick stew ladled over slices of fresh bread, I can’t resist voicing part of my earlier curiosity. “This Asrbloom tea,” I remark between bites, “you say you carry it with you when traveling alone?”

Thorn pauses, spoon halfway to her mouth. Her eyes take on that mesmerizing ferocity, like an emerald blaze. “In case of crossing your kind, yes,” she says pointedly. “I walk unseen usually, but you never know what will happen.”

I nod, hoping my prodding will not break this delicate accord between us. “A reasonable precaution, though I promise you don’t need to fear me.” I infuse the vow with utmost sincerity.

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