Page 78 of This Violent Light
“You didn’t,” I say, interrupting her. Part of me wants to lie. It’d be easier to say she stopped it, that it would have worked if she hadn’t called it off. But I can’t force the words from my mouth. “It was working. It was going to work.”
Grace doesn’t respond, but her throat bobs as she swallows.
“I stopped it,” I say. “Cora said you would make it, but you were in so much pain. I was sure…I was terrified you were going todie.”
Her attention flickers from mine again. She’s still holding her wrist, staring blankly toward the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” she finally whispers.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I’m sorry I made you go through it. I thought it would work, that you’d be able to handle it.”
Another scoff.
“That came out wrong. I didn’t mean?—”
“Stop, Sebastian,” she says through a snarl. “Stop acting nice, like you care. You’re pissed, and you know it. You were so close to getting what you wanted, but you’d made a stupid promise and had to stick by it. And unfortunately for you, you forgot just how pathetic, how weak?—”
I press my mouth against hers. It’s barely a kiss, too firm to do anything more than shut her up.
“I am not bound by my promises,” I say. My lips brush against hers as I speak, and I tighten my hands over her jaw. “If I didn’t care whether you died, I would have let you die. If I didn’t care, I would have risked it. I didn’t stop it because I think you’re weak or because I’d told you I wouldn’t let youdie. It was because, for the first time, I feared something more than my own mortality.”
She swallows, and I trail my thumb down her throat, letting it settle over her pulse.
“I fearedyours, Grace,” I whisper. “I had to choose between the curse and you, and I chose you. And no matter how many times I have to choose, that’s not going to change.”
I pull back, studying her expression. She’s impossible to read, her eyes staring just past me.
“Okay,” she says finally. “We can try again later.”
Rather than respond, I claim her mouth, kissing her until she makes a soft sound of protest. When I pull back, she’s not looking at me but the front of her shirt.
“Is this mine?” she asks, plucking at the blood-stained fabric.
“No. It’s mine.”
“How did it get here?”
“Vampire blood is healing,” I say.
Her eyes widen.
“That wasreal?”
My lips tick into a smile without permission. I’m still half draped over her.
“That should be gross, right?” she asks. Her nose crinkles, and I kiss her again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m obsessed, so desperate to consume her, I can think of little else. Kiss her until she’s moaning. Fuck her until she’s thinking of nothing but me.
“It was hot,” I say.
“Yeah?” she asks. Her eyes sparkle, even if only slightly. She’s still weak, still tired. But she’s stillhere, and that’s what matters.
“Yeah,” I confirm. I press my lips to her throat, her jaw, her cheek. “Now, can I please fucking kiss you?”
Before she answers, her stomach lets out a low rumble.
“You’re hungry,” I say. It comes out more like an accusation than a statement.
“It can wait,” she says immediately. She presses her hands into my hair, flinching when she bumps her bandaged wrist against my head.
