Page 75 of Immortal Bastard

“Easy, little one—”

“Don’t try to calm me.” The connection had severed the moment he stopped drinking from her and—Oh, God—he drank her blood. Her revulsion sickened her. “Get off of me.”

He studied her with caution, obviously reluctant to let her go. “Delilah—”

“Let go. Let go of me right now or I’ll scream.” She shoved at him and her body was suddenly free. Empty. Her legs tangled in the blankets and she collapsed, rolling to her side. Hiding like a child who wanted to be invisible.

“Delilah.”

She sensed his concern, but couldn’t handle his worry on top of her own. Her hand blindly explored her neck, but there was no wound. Not even a trace of spilled blood. She pushed her chemise down over her legs, but there was no retracting what he’d just done. What she’d allowed.

His hand gently touched her back and she flinched. “There’s no reason to feel ashamed, little one.”

She buried her face in the pillows and covered her ears. “Don’t call me that. I’m a grown woman.”

“I know you’re grown. I don’t call you little one to slight you, but because I see how innocent you are in all of this.”

“Then how can you take advantage of me?”

Her words left him stricken, and his devastation rolled into her so hard and fast it knocked the breath from her lungs. “I would never take advantage of your innocence, Delilah. You’re my only light and hope in a world of shadows. My North Star in a black sky. My guiding compass.”

“I don’t want to be your light or your compass. I just want to be the woman I was before I met you. I can’t stomach this… This… thing that you made me.”

It was as if she could feel the air leave his lungs, feel every trace of warmth siphon from the room. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t you get it? This isn’t me. I’m just a girl—”

“No.” His stern rejection forbid her to belittle her relevance in his predestined world. “You might be a solitary female, but you’re much more than just a girl. You’re all I can see, all that I exist for.”

“I don’t belong to you, Christian.”

“But you do. Just as I belong to you.”

They were going in circles again. The relentless hamster wheel exhausted her. So much so, she had no desire to argue. A part of her even felt sorry for rejecting him, and she refused to acknowledge the illogical inclination to comfort him after all he’d done. But the urge existed all the same. “I’m tired.”

“You need to feed.” Without him explaining, she understood what he wanted.

“I’m not doing that to you.”

“Your body needs it, pintura.”

“I don’t care. I just want to sleep.”

He hesitated, then brushed a soft hand over her hair. “Very well. Rest now.”

It seemed too easy, but she was too mentally and physically exhausted to spare another second of concern. She even allowed him to run his fingers over her hair, the act soothing and peaceful in a way that comforted her as she so desperately needed to be comforted.

“Shut your eyes and sleep, little one.” Her lashes lowered with each heavy blink until every muscle in her face relaxed and darkness blanketed her. “I’ll take care of you.”

His words tugged at something but the smooth sense of relief that washed over her had her quickly forgetting her concerns. With no recollection of actually falling asleep, she glided deeper and deeper into a comfortable rest, aware that the hollow ache in her belly subsided and the gnawing hunger disappeared.

Warm contentment flowed through her and she rested soundly in his arms. Safe. Trusting that he would protect her, even if it meant saving her from herself.

CHAPTER 11

The gown was a disgusting shade of mint green that reminded Delilah of the time she threw up after too many Jell-o shots. The black apron wasn’t horrible, but the Handmaid’s Tale bonnet was not going anywhere near her head. “I’m not wearing this.”

Christian sighed. “It’s a traditional Amish bonnet.”

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