Page 70 of Eternal Devotion
“Answer me,” I shouted.
“I won’t mess with your mind again. I swear on my father’s grave. Please do me the courtesy of not revealing my secret to your friends. It could have dire consequences.”
I didn’t respond and refused to leave.
His weary expression somehow aged him several years. “You’re wrong,” he said.
“About?”
“I do care about you. More than I want to. More than I should. If things were different…” The sorrow in his eyes spoke of longing and regret. “But they’re not, Ensley. Even if I wanted to explore this further, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s why it’s better to end it now.”
Weeks of anger and confusion bled out of me. In that moment, Mordecai seemed no different than any other man. Tortured by something beyond his control.
Deflated, I rounded the table, but he shuffled away, hands extended.
“No. Don’t approach me.”
I didn’t listen and advanced until I’d backed him against the counter. His steady gaze, a rich Bordeaux I could get drunk on without regret, never left my face. A certain guardedness remained.
“You can’t do this.”
I cradled his face. “Too bad. I am.”
“Ensley—”
“You’ve never hurt me before.”
“And I never would on purpose.”
“Then why should I be afraid?”
“Because… I’m depleted. My control is… hampered.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I haven’t fed in weeks. The mounting urges are increasingly harder to resist.” He wet his lips, his gaze slipping to the pulse point in my neck. “You’re hard to resist.”
A shiver cascaded along my spine as the pieces clicked. My knowledge of vampires was likely tainted by fiction, but I knew enough to understand their diet.
Restrictions, he’d called it.
No cocoa. No pizza or water. No steak or wine or potatoes. Nothing. A sleight of hand. A conveniently placed napkin.
Vampires drank blood.
“What would happen if you bit me?”
“I wouldn’t.” He tried to wiggle from my grasp, but I held firm.
“Tell me. If you… fed on me—”
“Never. I refuse.”
“Would I die?”
“Not if I maintained control.”
“Would I… become like you?”
