Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 3

It felt almost like the air had been sucked from my lungs. None of this was making the least bit of sense and it was starting to unnerve me. Why couldn’t he just come out and say whatever it was he was avoiding? He wasn’t making anything better or easier. It only seemed to be messier and more puzzling.

“I don’t understand,” I conceded slowly, hoping against odds the answer would come before he said it. His hesitancy was making me fear it, whatever it was.

“I lost my sisters, and it nearly ruined me,” he whispered. “I could not imagine what losing you would be like, and I never wanted to know.”

“Drei…what did you do?”

He stood, my slipping from his as though he had forgotten it was there, and started pacing along the foot of the bed. “What I did is unforgivable and I understand if you loathe me,” he said, refusing to look at me. “I never wished my fate on anyone—least of all you…but I cannot undo what has been done.”

“What did—” It clicked. I had changed, but I hadn’t died. Not entirely. “You turned me,” I whispered, not sure how I felt about it. On one hand, it meant I could be with Drei and it was considerably more difficult for me to die. It also meant I hadn’t failed yet. But on the other, it meant facing the Council, for they would know eventually. It meant never growing old or living a full life. Would I be able to have children if I wanted them?

“I could not imagine living without you longer than I had already,” he murmured, his pacing stopped but his gaze hidden in shame.

I stood—or tried to, I should say—to go to him, instead bringing him to me as my legs crumpled under my weight. “You are still suffering side effects,” he explained, helping me into bed again. “You will be weak for a while, until your body adjusts. It doesn’t help you were injured when I—” The sentence completed itself, despite my fogginess. “Your wounds are healed, however,” he offered hopefully.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “I love you, Drei. Nothing, not even this, can change that.”

“Not even the way I treated you?”

“I never stopped loving you.”

“Neither I you.” He held me in his arms, the embrace familiar but strange. If anything, it was more powerful, strengthened by his relief and our former separation.

Then the moment was ruined by me and my newly acquired thirst. He laughed uneasily, though he tried to feign lightheartedness. He left briefly and returned with a mug of warm, dark liquid. “Animal blood,” he offered.

“Do I have to?” My stomach felt sickened by the thought as my mouth watered for it.

“You will grow accustomed to it.”

“I don’t believe you.” I held out against drinking it a while longer before thirst won out. Surprisingly, I wasn’t tempted to gag at the coppery liquid. If anything, I wanted more. But Drei said I needed to learn to curb my thirst early on before I began experiencing blood lust. I wasn’t strong enough to press the issue.

“You need more sleep,” he insisted, setting the empty mug on the bedside table. “That is the only way to regain your strength.”

“You’re always telling me to sleep,” I teased, lying down again, exhaustion washing over me.

“Because you seldom tell yourself,” he replied, grinning, his fingertips gliding down my scar-less arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch, soaking it up after having longed for it.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling myself drift off.

“Do not thank me for my selfishness,” he murmured softly into my ear as he lay beside me.

I thought about telling him how unselfish he had been. His motive was selfish, but in retrospect, he had done so much. He had given me the deepest secret he had as well as bought me more time to figure things out. He had saved me from failing, and no one else could have given me that. No one.