[I just want to understand, you know?]
 
 [We can talk, yes? You can always talk to me.]
 
 [Aleksey…]
 
 [Where are you?]
 
 Yikes. I turn the phone off so that it stops buzzing and set it beside mine on the table. I would ignore these messages, too.
 
 “Are you coming?”
 
 At the sound of Alexander’s voice, I lift my gaze. He stands outside the bathroom door, looking at me, stark naked. My groin and cock tense from the sight of him suddenly nude. Reading him, it’s obvious that he isn’t trying to be provocative, but my body, mind and nature are absolutely provoked.
 
 Nodding, I stand and inelegantly join him. Inside the bathroom, he helps me undress, then turns on the shower and tinkers with the temperature until it’s comfortable. The process is much more clinical than I’d like, with him doing most of the work of getting us clean so that the wraps on my arms don’t get wet.
 
 The steam billows airily around us and it smells like him. Summer sunlight, heat and sweet oranges. All of it is like a wrecking ball to my senses.
 
 What sobers me is the amount of broken hair tumbling from my head and hitting the white porcelain before is snakes its way toward the drain.
 
 My fucking hair. I can’t believe this.
 
 “Are you okay?” Alexander asks timidly when we’re outside the shower and drying off.
 
 At exactly that moment, I glance up and catch sight of myself in the half-fogged mirror. My pale and gaunt frame. My hair, limp and uneven from being fried somehow from the heat of the fire. My bandaged arms…
 
 I look like a monster.
 
 Shame overwhelms me—floods my chest like a dark tidal wave and I lift my palm and press it to my forehead. Closing my eyes, I breathe, trying to get ahold of myself. My hair is the only good thing I had going for me and nowthat’sfucked.
 
 “Danny? What’s the matter?—”
 
 “I just need a minute, okay?” Leaving him, I walk back into the bedroom and rifle through my duffle bag to find a t-shirt and underwear. Mindful of my arms, I slip everything on, then get back into the bed.
 
 Out of nowhere, I’m embarrassed. Ashamed that I’ve been brazen enough to pursue and covet this purebred when I look like a wet and half-smashed spider of a vampire. Someone literally thought it would be better to set me on fire than have me be with Alexander, and seeing my reflection just now, I can’t say that I blame them.
 
 “Danny…” Alexander comes out of the bathroom in a set of his elaborate pajamas and with his golden hair still wet. Disheveled and perfect. He walks toward the bed, hesitating.
 
 “I’m alright?—”
 
 “No, you’re not,” he says quietly, crawling toward me. “Please don’t lie. What is it?”
 
 I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them as if to make myself smaller. Why do I suddenly feel so small? It’s as if the shock of everything that’s happened is tumbling down on my psyche like an avalanche.
 
 “Tell me?” Alexander is on all fours as he leans into the curve of my neck and softly kisses me there. The sensation is heartfelt and lovely, like starlight touching and warming my skin. “Please?”
 
 I turn my head to take him in. His golden-brown eyes are sincere and patient. I feel like a pervert for wanting him as much as I do. For wanting to fuck and touch him. The pull of his nature is so alluring and powerful to my vampiric senses—much more so now that we’ve bonded.
 
 Even when I was unconscious and couldn’t respond, his aura stirred me internally, creating a beautiful and vivid dreamscape while I healed.
 
 Turning my head away, I speak honestly. “I’m feeling insecure.”
 
 “Why? Because you were caught in a house fire and almost died?”
 
 I huff. “Well, no… and yes.”
 
 “Your hair can be fixed, Raven. The wounds on your arms will heal. None of this is your fault. Do you need anything from me? Do you want to be left alone?”
 
 I shift again, meeting his gaze. “No, I don’t want to be left alone. You can—you don’t need to be wearing all these clothes. We’re not at your estate. No one is going to burst into the room.”