Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I wish you didn’t have to,” he added. So did I. But the fact was I had to. I couldn’t let one more person die because of unfinished business I was too scared to deal with.
“I’ll think about you every day. You’ll be the one thing that keeps me going,” I told him, and his arms tightened around me. More time elapsed. Suddenly, I remembered something, sitting up.
“There’s actually a favour I need to ask before I go,” I said.
Peter shifted up onto his elbows. “Ask it.”
I bit my lip, then lifted my eyes to his. “I need to feed. I could be in there for a while, and it’s been almost two weeks since I fed from you last.”
Peter’s eyes flashed with concern. “Of course. Take as much as you need.”
“Are you sure? I might need to take a little more than I normally do.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze intense. “Yes, that’s fine. I want you to be strong going into that place.”
A soft knock sounded on the door, and an officer peeked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Mr Girard to go now,” she said gently.
“Can we have a few more minutes?” I asked, casting her a beseeching look.
“Of course. I’ll let you say your goodbyes.”
As the door shut behind her, Peter and I stared at each other, so much love and pain and longing in our hearts that we didn’t have time to express fully. Try as I might, I couldn’t hold back the tears as they trickled down my cheeks. Peter’s face was etched with sorrow as he wiped them away. We shared a meaningful look, and then my fangs descended as I brought my mouth to his neck and sank them into his smooth skin. I was gentler with him than normal, my heart forlorn. It felt like a goodbye, but I had to remind myself it was only goodbye for now. We would be together again.
We would.
I drank deeply. Peter groaned at one point, sending a bolt of arousal through me. I had to tamp it down. There was no time for that. When I felt his body slacken, I knew I’d taken too much. It hurt my heart that he didn’t protest. Instead, he brought his hand to the back of my neck and massaged it as though encouraging me to keep going. I couldn’t do that. I loved him too much, and there was always the fear that I might lose control. That some deep-seated dark half would come alive, a monster that wanted to drink until nothing was left.
I released him, my fangs snapping back as I licked and kissed away the excess blood. This feeding would keep me going for at least a month, possibly longer. Peter rested against the pillow, a hazy look in his eyes. It took him a few minutes to escape the blissful reverie my bite put him into.
“You don’t have to do this. You can still back out,” he whispered, but I was already shaking my head.
“It needs to be done. No one else can end the conflict between Vasilios and me,” I said as I took both his hands into mine, absorbing the solid, warm feel of his palms.
“I wish I could go in your place. I wish I could shoulder this burden for you.”
“You can’t, and I wouldn’t let you even if you could.”
His eyes flickered back and forth between mine. “You astound me with your bravery. I love you so fucking much.” My heart hurt at the ferociousness of his words.
I pulled him to me, wrapping my arms tight around him. “I love you, too. We’ll be together again before you know it. I promise you.”
Eventually, there was another knock on the door, and Peter and I reluctantly untangled ourselves from one another. He reached out, caressing my cheek, then leaned forward, gently kissing me. It was so full of longing I could barely stand it. He could probably still taste his blood on my tongue.
We drew away from each other, and Peter approached the door, looking back one last time. I could see how much effort it took to walk out that door, but eventually, he did. When he was gone, I deflated. Weirdly, I wasn’t scared for myself entering the prison. Instead, I feared the pain those who loved me would suffer if something terrible happened to me.
A few minutes later, Sergeant Davis appeared. “Miss Cristescu,” he said with a dip of his head. “Your boat awaits.”
Saying goodbye to my parents was almost as tearful as saying goodbye to Peter. I knew they had faith in me, but at the same time, I was their little girl, and it was surely terrifying for them to let me go. They’d always encouraged my independence and given me as much freedom as possible; now, they were allowing me the ultimate freedom. Ironically, that freedom involved walking into a prison.