Page 140 of Eternal Devotion

I studied his flawless, pale skin and traced my thumb over his slightly parted lips—not blue but a vibrant scarlet that contrasted his complexion.

“Come on, love. Your injuries are healed, and it’s time to wake up.”

Somewhere in the house, the grandfather clock rang the hour. Midnight. The time when evil reigned, when the cursed ones walked the earth and the moon’s pull was most profound.

Ensley stirred. His lashes fluttered as he peeled his eyes open one at a time and scanned the dark room.

When his gaze landed on me, he blinked a few times before rasping, “Where am I?”

“The mansion.”

“The mansion.” He frowned and wet his lips as though parched. “How… How did I…” He groaned. “I feel strange.”

“I imagine so. You’ll adjust.”

“Adjust? To what?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

The confusion was normal and tended to last several hours upon waking after the change had taken effect. Some called it the Adaptation Phase. Then, hunger would kick in. He would be ravenous, delirious with need. It would take over his senses until he learned to control it.

I wasn’t ready for that obstacle. My disinclination to feed regularly would be of no help to Ensley. It meant changing my ways until he learned discipline.

One step at a time.

He sat up slowly, groggy and stiff no doubt, and steadied himself by leaning on an arm as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Our gazes met. “Why do you look so sad?” he asked.

I tucked a stray chunk of hair behind his ear and brushed my fingers over his cheek. “What do you remember of last night, love?”

“Remember? Um…” Confusion creased his brow as his gaze turned inward. A moment later, his eyes, deep burgundy like my own—like Cristofer’s and Iulian’s, and all the other cursed souls that roamed the earth—widened.

“We woke the elder,” he whispered as his gaze flicked side to side. “He… Oh. I didn’t leave fast enough. He came after me. I was bleeding.”

Expression stricken, he searched my face for answers. “What happened?”

A lump stuck in my throat, but I forced myself to explain. “He mortally wounded you.”

I couldn’t look at him, too full of guilt and shame. “You were dying, and…” I pinched my eyes closed against the memory. “Oh, Ensley. I wasn’t ready to let you go. I couldn’t bear it. I’ve spent four centuries with a vacancy in my chest, so utterly alone in this wretched world. Then you came along and revived my long-dead heart. You breathed life into my poisoned lungs. You gave me hope and peace. Oh, my sweet love, forgive me. I’ve done a terrible thing.”

Tortured by his silence, I glanced up and saw the moment he understood the truth.

Ensley touched his face and neck where Iulian had fatally cut him. The wounds were gone. Healed.

“Oh… Oh god.” He peered around the room, lips parted in awe, and I suspected he recognized his enhanced senses. Did he hear Cristofer moving about downstairs? Did he smell the approaching storm?

He prodded his changed teeth, then desperately clutched his chest. “My heart… It’s… I can’t feel it beating. Mordecai? Am I… Did I die?”

“Yes, love.” The next words hurt to voice, but I persevered, knowing I owed him the truth. “But not before I fed you my poisoned essence.”

“What?”

“My blood, Ensley. I forced you to drink my blood.”

The cut I’d sliced in my wrist for Iulian had still been open, so as Ensley had lain gasping for air that would not fill his lungs, as his life rapidly drained from his body, as my unbeating heart broke at what was to come, I had pressed the still seeping wound to his lips and squeezed all I could into his mouth, forcing him to drink from me.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. If he hated me forever, I would understand.