Page 97 of Bound By Blood

“He went out to have a look around,” Zack explained. “Someone’s out there.”

“Nadiya?” Elena asked, worry furrowing her brow.

“No.”

Elena wrapped her arms around her waist. “I wish this was over.”

Kaitlyn looked up at Zack. “Me, too.”

He grinned as he pulled her against his side. “So do I, darlin’,” he whispered for her ears alone.

“I don’t like this,” Elena said. “Drake should have been back by now.”

She had no sooner spoken the words than he appeared at her side. “Whoever it was is gone,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “I think he was just checking to see if we were still here.”

Zack nodded. “Was it anyone you recognized?”

“No. It was most likely one of Lucien’s kin. I would have recognized the scent if we shared the same blood.” Drake paused a moment, then said, “You and Kaitlyn were outside earlier. Stay inside.”

Zack nodded. It galled him to take orders from another vampire, especially when that vampire was younger, but in this case, Drake was right. Another vampire couldn’t enter the castle without an invitation, but that restriction only extended to the house itself. Anyone, friend or foe, could have come over the garden wall.

Drake came forward to kiss his daughter good night, then he swung Elena into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs.

Zack stared after them, wishing he had the right to sweep Kaitlyn into his arms and into his bed, to make love to her until the sun chased the moon from the sky. And he would, just as soon as she was rightfully his.

He wasn’t sure where this newfound code of honor came from, but it was sure as hell playing havoc with his love life.

Zack prowled the halls and corridors of Wolfram Castle long after everyone else had gone to bed. He paused outside Kaitlyn’s door just to listen to the even sound of her breathing, to assure himself that she was safe.

Now and then, he heard an errant sound from her parents’ bedroom that told him Drake was making love to his wife, perhaps for the last time.

Returning to the main hall, Zack paced the floor in front of the hearth. He needed to call Scherry and check on things at the club. He needed to feed.

He needed Kaitlyn. Needed her as he needed blood to survive. Needed her goodness in his life. That knowledge, combined with the fear that he might lose her, scared him right down to his socks. He had never needed anyone before. Not even Colette. He had loved his pretty dancer, though his love for her, when compared to what he felt for Kaitlyn, was like comparing a match to a forest fire. He had grieved when Colette died, but her passing had barely made a ripple in his existence. He had laid her to rest and moved on. But if he lost Kaitlyn … He stared into the cold ashes of the hearth. Kaitlyn. She had insinuated herself into his heart, into his very soul. If he lost her … He shook his head. Without her, his life would no longer be worth living.

As if his thoughts had conjured her, Kaitlyn floated down the stairs toward him, a raven-haired vision in a long white gown that billowed behind her. Her bare feet made no sound as she closed the distance between them.

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “What is it that troubles you so?” she whispered, her gaze searching his.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her up against him. “Are you reading my mind now, Katy darlin’?”

“Not exactly, but I felt your distress. What’s bothering you, Zack?”

“I’ve never been afraid of anything before,” he said, his voice so low she could scarcely hear it. “But I’m afraid of losing you. Afraid of what it would do to me.” He lifted a lock of her hair, let it sift through his fingers. “I love you, Katy.”

“I know.” She cupped his face between her palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t be afraid. In life or in death, I’ll always be with you.” She pressed his hand to her cheek. “Come to bed with me, Zack. Let me hold you until you fall asleep.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he muttered, but he didn’t resist when she tugged on his hand. Like a man in a trance, he followed her up the stairs and down the hall to her room.

He stood in the center of the floor while she closed and locked the door. Stood there, hardly daring to breathe, as she removed his shirt, unbuckled his belt, unfastened his trousers, then climbed up on the bed and slipped under the covers.

Expelling a deep breath, he heeled off his boots, pulled off his socks, stepped out of his trousers, and left them all in a heap on the floor.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked gruffly.

“Very sure,” she said.

Wearing only his briefs, he slid in beside her. “You know where this is likely to end, don’t you?”

---