Page 19 of Blood Moon Bound

“A cupcake. I thought you might like a sugary treat. I wanted you to have something nice when you got home and…” He took one of my hands, lifting it.

“What is this?” he said, studying my palm.

“I burned it.”

His dark violet eyes slid from my palm to my face. “How?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I’ve never baked before, and I didn’t think to use a cloth for the tray. It burned my hand, and I dropped the cupcakes all over the floor.”

He looked at the cupcake I was holding and back at me.

“The first batch was destroyed. I started from scratch,” I said quickly. “I would never give you floor cupcakes.”

“You made a second batch?”

“Yes.”

“After you burned yourself, so I could have a sweet treat?”

“Yes.”

He looked at my palm again, his expression turning to stone. “You’re still young, Delphine, you heal slowly, you need to be more careful.”

It was already looking better than it had. I healed slower than an older vampire like him, but I still healed relatively quickly. I didn’t say that though, not with that intense and, yes, angry expression on his face. My heart sank, but I made myself smile and nod.

His gaze went to my mouth and he swallowed thickly, then released my hand and took a step back. “You should head up to bed, it’s late.” He turned, about to leave.

“Your cupcake,” I called after him.

“You have it.” He walked out the door.

“Oh…okay.” But he was already gone.

I stared after him, and before I could stop it, a sob escaped, surprising me. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle the next and sat heavily.

I thought coming here meant my years of loneliness had finally come to an end. I’d been so incredibly wrong.

Constantine didn’t want me, and it was only a matter of time before he sent me away.

* * *

Constantine

Her sob stopped me in my tracks.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared at the floor. Fuck. I turned back to the door, then willed myself to ignore her and walk away, but I couldn’t do it.

“Fuck,” I muttered and walked back into the library.

Delphine looked up, startled, like the night I’d brought her here. She swiped at the bloody tears on her cheeks and offered me that same fake smile, pretending she hadn’t been in here crying just now despite the evidence.

“Give me the cake. I changed my mind,” I said and sat on the couch beside her. She was in her nightgown. Simple, sensible white cotton, cotton that was far too fucking thin. Christ, I could see right through it. “I’m in the mood for a…a sweet treat,” I gritted out.

Her smile widened, and this time it wasn’t fake. “You are?”

I lifted the tiny cake from the plate and peeled back the red polka-dot paper that covered the base of it and took a bite.

“What do you think?” she asked, her expression hopeful.