Page 106 of Eternal Devotion

Maybe, I too, was dead inside.

25

Mordecai

Upon returning to Owen Sound, my goal was to formulate an ironclad plan to rescue Iulian from the hunters. It meant further reconnaissance. It meant studying the comings and goings of the hunters to learn how many protected the elder, when they switched shifts, and what kind of challenges I might face. Who was their leader? How closely involved was Valerius? I wanted to examine their weaknesses and discover any and all traps, so I didn’t spring them again. With my powers strengthened, I would be wiser and hopefully go undiscovered.

What I didn’t anticipate was a human distraction. A melancholy human distraction who had somehow wiggled his way into my life and warmed a spot behind my ribs that hadn’t been warm in four centuries.

Ensley wasn’t himself, not since our visit to his hometown. It had been eight days, and I suspected his despondent mood had everything to do with the new man in his mother’s life and not the events that had taken him to Strathroy in the first place.

He ate robotically, went to work, and came home with barely a smile. At night, we shared a bed and our bodies, and his lovemaking was raw and borderline sacrificial. I wasn’t sure how else to describe it. He often arched his back and presented his neck, enticing me and whimpering for something he wouldn’t articulate.

Sometimes I thought his craving for me was on par with my craving for him. Resistance was a challenge. My insatiable needs were harder to control each day. Staving off hunger when we were so ravenously engaged tested my limits, but I swore to myself I would not feed on him again.

A promise that was quickly crumbling with my weakened will.

In the short time I’d known Ensley, I’d admired his caring nature and gentle soul. In the car, listening to the story of the accident that had taken his father’s life, it was all too clear how he’d come to be the kind and compassionate man I’d been slowly getting to know.

Ensley carried a mountain of guilt and blame on his shoulders. His youthful lies and their consequences had tormented him for years. After that fateful Halloween night, he’d taken full responsibility for his mother’s happiness, even when he couldn’t live in the same town anymore from a perceived notion that everyone judged him. Even when his own suffering dragged him under and threatened to drown him.

He’d caused her pain; therefore, he would do all he could to mend her broken heart.

Except James had taken over, leaving Ensley a martyr without a cause.

I didn’t believe he had failed. If anything, his love and dedication to his mother had likely been the foundation of her healing journey. Without Ensley’s compassion, there might not have been a James, but he couldn’t see it, and I wasn’t in a position to convince him. It was a truth he needed to discover on his own.

As a full week came and went, my loyalties wavered. I understood my responsibilities and how imperative it was that I rescue Iulian for the good of my people and our future, but I had also grown close to Ensley, far closer than I planned.

My unbeating heart ached for this tormented man. I’d given him as much as I could, knowing it would never be enough, knowing this beautiful thing we shared would inevitably end in ruin.

Our destinies were not meant to cross. Our worlds were not the same.

Determined to draw him from his depression, I’d spent the evening concocting a trial version of his favorite childhood meal while he attended an open house. Intoxicating smells filled the flat, and if I didn’t know how violently sick it would make me, I would have savored a bite. My goal was to put a smile on Ensley’s face, spark life into his shadowed eyes. Watching him eat had become one of my most favorite activities in the world.

I hadn’t returned to the mansion since visiting his hometown. The temptation arose that afternoon as recognizable signs of depletion surfaced. The savage hunger that made my bones ache grew worse with each passing day. Resting on my soil would stave off the need to feed, but the hunters had discovered my lair, so venturing there and descending into a state of torpor would be risky.

I needed to investigate the eyot again and soon. It would have to be that evening, before the depletion dulled my sharp wit and dampened my skills. After Ensley slept. He couldn’t know. I worried he might try to stop me. Worse, I feared he would insist on joining the cause.

The distinct sound of plodding footsteps climbing the stairs to the flat reached my ears. I hastily plated Ensley’s food and set it on the high table between utensils and a neatly folded napkin. Retrieving the glass of wine I’d recently poured, I aimed for the door to greet him.

Ensley entered, and I studied him, alert to his ever-changing mood, reading his face and body language to see how his day had gone. He seemed weary and sullen, but when his gaze landed on me, a content smile took shape on his lips and brought a spark of life to his eyes.

Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Welcome home.”

Ensley sniffed the air and peered toward the kitchen area. “You cooked again.”

It had become my favorite pastime. My ingrained nocturnal habits had been impossible to kick. I spent many hours asleep while he worked, and often lay awake beside him at night, watching him sleep.

“I did. Something special this time. I can’t promise perfection since taste-testing isn’t an option, but it smells divine. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” He shed his coat and hung it on a hook by the door before tipping his head to the side to examine me properly. I wore a silly apron with a frilly yellow border. It read Queen of the Kitchen in pink cursive across the front. A bejeweled crown was emblazoned above the words. I’d found it in a drawer that afternoon while hunting for a colander.

Chin high, like a queen, I held the glass of wine aloft for him to take. “What?”

He accepted the wine and thumbed the ruffled edge of the apron. “It was a gag gift from Mars last Christmas.”

“I quite fancy it.”