Page 53 of Ruin

“Maybe for you. I have been waiting for this for hundreds of years. I thought the idea of a vampire finding their one true love was just a myth, a folk tale.” I allowed a smile to tug at my lips, shaking my head in wonder. “But that changed. I found out the truth about seven years ago.”

STOP.

NOT. YET.

I glanced down at the three feet separating us, the distance feeling insurmountable yet necessary. “May I?” I asked, my voice soft.

Claire’s brow furrowed as she stared at me in silence, her uncertainty evident.

I gently began to sit on the bed, continuing, “I’ve had literally hundreds of opportunities to do whatever I wanted with you, and you’re still alive.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “For now. Barely.”

I closed my eyes, nodding my head in acceptance of her anger—acceptance that she was not entirely wrong. I whispered, “Claire, when the hunger takes over. I am…I am a beast. I accept that.”

I paused, pressing my hand to my forehead and taking a breath before continuing, “I know it makes absolutely no difference, but I do not remember last night. Sam told me everything. I cannot imagine how you felt.”

Claire quipped, “Like I was going to die.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You broke me, Arik. You broke us.”

Her words cut through me like a knife as I struggled to breathe.

“I know I did. And I will spend as much time as it takes to make it right.” I stopped, then looked deep into her tear-filled eyes, my voice calm. “But let me make myself perfectly clear. In no world would my hunger have overpowered me enough to kill you. That would be the equivalent of my clawing my heart from my chest.”

Claire sat still as her tears began to dry, a statue of apprehension and curiosity.

I reached out, brushing my thumb gently across her hairline. “Does it hurt?”

Her eyes closed at my touch, her response weak. “Yes. Very much so.”

I felt a pang of regret.

“You…looked so angry,” she stammered, her voice trembling slightly.

As Claire closed her eyes again, I slid closer, my body pressed against hers. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her gently but firmly toward me. Claire gasped, startled by my strength on full display. Her eyes locked with mine as my hand stroked her back with a tender touch.

“I just want this,” I murmured.

Claire spoke, her voice soft, edged with resignation as she stared into the distance. “All those times you asked me to stay here—I never had a choice, did I?”

“I wanted you to make the decision on your own. I still do,” I replied, my voice earnest.

I looked at her hairline, still stained with blood, and rose from the bed. I could feel her nerves rising as I made my way to the en-suite bathroom. The lights came on with a hum as I flipped the switch, illuminating the stark white room.

Claire called, “Arik, what are you doing?” as my hands adjusted the knobs of the bathtub slowly until the perfect temperature was reached.

My voice carried over the sound of the water filling the porcelain tub. “You have blood in your hair. You need a bath.”

I stood up and made my way back to the bedside, feeling her nerves crash as she pulled her knees to her chest. I kept my voice low and soothing as I brushed her arm. “I understand how you feel. If you would like, I can come in after you have entered the bath—but I would prefer you did not try to wash your hair yourself, given the stitches.”

Claire pressed her fingers to her head again, wincing as she nodded.

I took a few steps away from the bed to give her space and watched as she entered the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her. Minutes later, she called for me, “You can come in now, Arik.”

Claire’s knees were pulled against her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them as I entered the steamy bathroom. I grimaced as she looked at me, her eyes wide with fear and helplessness as she struggled not to look away.

“Now,” I said as I looked toward the wall, positioning my body to look at her back for her privacy, “you are the boss. I am here to serve you.”

Claire nodded as I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, followed by the legs of my pants. I took a step into the tub and settled on the ledge behind her. I grabbed the hand-held nozzle, turning the water on slowly and testing the temperature against the skin of my arm. Water rolled down her hair as she lifted her chin to the ceiling. Every ounce of my being wanted to lift her chin myself, but I was desperately trying to keep her calm and feeling safe.