Page 26 of Bloodstained
“I didn’t want you to see me that way,” he said finally, breaking the silence, his voice quieter now, steady but weighted. “Down there, covered in blood. But I am glad you did.”
“Glad?” I whispered.
He nodded slowly. “Because now you understand. You can’t truly see me without seeingthatpart of me. You can’t understand what I am without knowing what I’ve become.”
I shook my head, anger and disbelief tangling in my chest. “You call that understanding? Knowing you drained the life out of something? Do you even remember what it’s like to be human?”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted. It was the look of a man who’d outlived everything worth remembering. “I remember fragments,” he hissed, his voice roughened by centuries of solitude. “The warmth of full sunlight on skin. The sound of laughter I once thought I’d never forget. But time erodes even the precious things.” His gaze held mine, unblinking, reverent. “And yet, the thought and image ofyou remains constant with me. No matter how many years pass, Clara… it’s always you who makes me feel alive.”
His words took my breath away, clinging to my lungs like an eternal promise. Dark, tender, unbearable.
“Stop saying things like that,” I whispered, hating how small I sounded. “You make it sound like I was meant for this… meant for you.”
Ivan stepped forward. “You were,” he said. “You are.”
I shook my head hard, pushing up to my feet. “No.” I backed away until the cold stone caught my shoulders, grounding me, trapping me.
His jaw flexed, and his tone was barely a rasp. “Yes, Clara. All I offer is myself… and the truth.”
“Truth?” The word cracked in my throat. “You thinkthisis truth? Feeding on blood? Locking me away?”
He moved closer, each step eating the space between us until I could feel the air shift with him. “You think the world you left behind was real? That fucker who left you loveless? Made you feel worthless?” His voice dropped, rough as gravel as he brought up Laszlo. “That wasn’t living, Clara. That was surviving.”
My pulse spiked, heat crawling up my throat. “And maybe surviving was enough,” I snapped. “At least it wasmine… my choices. My path!”
In the next breath, he was in front of me, too close, too much. His body blocked the firelight and the scent of wood burning. I should have been afraid. But all I felt was the thrum beneath my skin, heat between my thighs, and the pull toward him that felt older than the world itself.
“Then, tell me,” he breathed, leaning in until his breath brushed my cheek, “why do you tremble every time I’m near?”
My lips parted. “Because you terrify me.”
“Liar.” The word came out a growl. It was low, primal, and meant to befelt.
I opened my eyes and saw that his gaze was trained on me. Glowing, burning, and filled with possession. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. I should’ve flinched. I should’ve slapped him. Instead, I leaned into the touch, betraying myself completely. His thumb dragged across my skin. It was slow, claiming.
My breath caught. It felt like… coming home.
“I see it,” he whispered. “The way your pulse races when I say your name. The way you look at me is like you’ve stared into these eyes before. You fight it because you think it makes you weak.
“Hate me for it,” he said, his voice breaking past the restraint he’d been holding on to. “Hate me for needing you just to breathe. For remembering what it felt like to hold you in another life—and losing you to betrayal. Hate me for the centuries I’ve spent searching for you.”
My chest ached, hot and tight, every word slicing deeper.
“But be honest,” he went on, his tone rougher now, darker. “Because tonight, I’m claiming you, Clara. And I’ll make you remember exactly who and what I am… to you.”
“Love isn’t an excuse for what you’ve done,” I whispered.
“No,” he said, his gaze burning into mine. “It isn’t. But that’s all I have left. You’re all I’ve kept of my humanity.” His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, holding me there. He was gentle but possessive. He leaned in, his breath warm against my lips, so close I could taste him without the kiss. “So I’ll use it as my reason,” he murmured. “Tell me to stop… and I will.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came. Because I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to drown everything out. The fear.The grief. The weight of being lost in a world that no longer felt like mine.
So, I did the only thing I could. I reached for him.
Our kiss was feral. It was raw, consuming, and felt like I’d been waiting my entire life for it. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was one of need and of loss that collided between us. Ivan’s hands gripped my hips and dragged me to him while pushing back against the stone, the hard wall biting into my spine, his massively stiff cock digging into my belly as his mouth devoured mine.
I gasped, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that was all hunger and no mercy. He kissed me as if he’d die if he didn’t. And God help me, I kissed him back like I wanted him to.
My hands found the open collar of his shirt, my fingers brushing across the heat of his chest. His heart beat strong beneath my touch. “I thought vampires were cold,” I whispered into his mouth. “But you’re so warm.”
