Page 79 of Bitten Vampire
It feels like a lie.
“We will go slowly,” he murmurs. “If you want me, I will move heaven and earth to prove I’m worthy of your time—that includes protecting you from my father.”
He pauses. “So far, I’ve done a dreadful job. My father is not a good man. I have avoided politics for centuries, but now he’s targeted you. If we move too soon, we risk war; if we wait and build support among the other clans, we stand a chance.”
I have no words, so I stay silent.
“I have spoken with the shifters,” he continues. “You impressed the Alpha’s mate; she wants to help. But you are an unregistered turning, and there’s the Clan Nocturna mess. First, we must face the Council. If we survive a public trial, we might have a chance.”
“We?”
“Sunshine,” he says softly, “I know you don’t believe me. To you, I’m just a vampire who’s barged into your life with a homicidal father and a pile of problems.” His voice falters, then steadies. “I know it is sudden, and you don’t feel the bond—you weren’t born a vampire. But I don’t care.”
He kisses the tip of my nose.
“I do not care if it’s one-sided. I have enough love for both of us, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
His eyes hold mine, steady and raw.
“So when I say we will survive the trial, I mean it. I do not want to live in a world without you.”
I stare at him with disbelief. Not because I doubt everything—well, perhaps a little—but because no one has ever said anything like this to me.
I have never been anyone’s first choice.
He says he doesn’t mind if it’s one-sided, that he has enough love for both of us. Somehow, that makes it worse. It’s too much—too kind, too certain—and I’m not used to people being certain about me.
I don’t know how to stand in the light of someone’s love without squinting, without bracing for it to turn or disappear.
For it not to hurt.
He wants to make me happy, to wait, to try—and something tired, old, and frightened inside me wants to cry at the thought. I’ve lived too long where love arrived with conditions, came quietly, left loudly, and only after I shrank myself small enough to be tolerated.
I do not know how to accept what he is offering.
Not yet. Perhaps not ever. But the thing that scares me most is that part of me wants to. Wants to try. Wants to believe him. Wants to be his. I have no idea what to do with that.
I pull away and clear my throat, though it emerges as a squeak. My hands fuss with the hem of my sleeve. “Well,” I say after a beat too long, “that’s… a lot.”
Smooth, Fred. Very smooth.
“I mean, most men buy you dinner or say you have nice boobs, not declare eternal devotion and a shared survival pact.”
I risk a glance. He hasn’t moved, watching me as though I’m the sun and he hasn’t seen daylight in years.
“Look, I’m not saying I don’t appreciate the sentiment. I’m just… I’m not very good at this. Whatever this is.” I gesture between us. “And, honestly, I’m still processing the whole trial-slash-potential-death thing, never mind the soulmate situation.”
A breath, then I quietly add, “But thank you. For saying it, for meaning it.”
I can’t give him more than that. Not now.
But he knows it isn’t a no.
Valdarr smiles.
“Sunshine,” he murmurs, “if I wanted declarations in return, I wouldn’t have offered mine first.” He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Personally, I think that was rather romantic—very poetic. Survival pacts are terribly in at the moment.”
I huff a laugh before I can stop myself.
