Page 23 of Blood & Bedlam

“Forgive me,” he pleads. I search his face. See the way his throat works to swallow around the knot in it.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I tell him. “I don’t understand any of this, but I know that for the first time in my life, I don’t feel alone.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes at the honesty, and my nose burns with the weight of my confession, with the effort of keeping myself from falling apart as the reality and danger of what just happened registers. Slowly, the euphoria fades. My limbs feel heavy, my head an anvil, and if it weren’t for Vladimir’s strong grip holding me upright, I’d be in a pile on the fucking floor. My eyes flutter shut, but I fight the wave of exhaustion because there’s too much to talk about, and I’ve got so many questions.

When he lifts me up in his arms and cradles me to him, they suddenly don’t seem to matter all that much.

The doors open slowly on our approach, and I allow my head to rest in the crook of his neck. Vladimir stops just beyond the threshold, where the others are gathered, looking anxious and stricken.

“Oh, thank fuck, she’s alive,” the redhead, Claire, exclaims, throwing up her hands on a relieved exhale.

“I told you she would be,” Juliette quips, folding her arms across her chest.

“I am sorry for losing control like that. There is no excuse, and I will regret it forever.” Vladimir speaks over me, his gaze touching on his gathered family, rife with guilt.

Camille steps forward, arms crossed, concern on her beautiful face.

“We have to talk about this. That was a ma—” Vladimir clicks his teeth on a hiss, jerking his head to cut her off.

“She’s depleted. I need to get her to rest, and then I will meet you in my study. All of you,” he adds. She looks seconds away from arguing, but they exchange a loaded look and she reluctantly steps aside.

My eyelids grow too heavy to keep open, and I don’t recall the walk up his stairs, or him laying me onto his bed. But I remember the softest press of his lips against my temple, and the drag of his fingertip over the side of my cheek as I let my exhausted body succumb to sleep.

I dream of the same haunted, stunning storm-colored eyes—

His.

Vladimir

CHAPTER 11

This can’t be happening.

I wait until Reine’s breathing settles into a peaceful rhythm, deep and calming, before I can manage to tear myself away from her. I didn’t sink my fangs into her, but I still drank deeply and she will need rest as her body works to replace what I’ve taken.

What she offered me.

If it were anyone else lying in that bed, I would have them drink a blood-replenishing elixir, but knowing what I know now, with the irrefutable proof on my lips, that taste on my tongue, there’s no need. Reine’s body will produce more than enough blood to keep her healthy. A thousand thoughts addle my brain as I make my way to my gathered children, but I’m reeling from the magnitude of what I just experienced.

There isn’t so much as a peep of conversation happening inside my office. Guilt spears through me, because while I know that I wasn’t in my right state of mind, those are my daughters and for the second time in as many days, I was the danger to them.

If they had tried to keep me from Reine, I would have gone through their chests.

It makes me sick to even imagine.

They’re all seated inside, Drake standing over Claire who’s seated in a chair, Juliette and Serena on my blue velvet settee with Dasher on the floor between them. Fleur and Kendra are near the window, the stress and tension evident. But it’s Cami, my Cami, with her bloodied lip, that’s seated in my chair, staring through me. Unmoving. Unreadable.

“How is she?” Juliette asks. I give her a small smile and pat her shoulder as I cross the room.

“Sleeping. She will be fine, once she’s replenished.” I lean my back against the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Their eyes trace over me, taking note of the remnants of my cuts and scrapes from their efforts to rein me in. My throat is tight, but I swallow around the lump—there’s no good way to do this.

“I lost control,” I admit again, because I know that I did, and it’s important that they understand I acknowledge the danger I put them all in. That I accept the blame.

“Putain, Papa!” Fleur curses. Her words tumble from her lips in a rapid stream of consciousness, alternating between French and English interchangeably. “We don’t give a shit about blame! Cami told us what they found at her house! She could be anybody, but more than that, it’s the second time I’ve watched you lose yourself. Tell me, did you smell it last night too? Is that why you flew off the deep end and put us in this world of shit?” she demands, and because I have no defense, I let my posture fall. In full contrition, I tell them the truth.

“I didn’t know last night, but it was the hardest it has ever been, controlling the thirst. I thought it was the heat of the moment, her face maybe, who she could be. But now …” I trail off, and Claire tuts sarcastically.

“Now we know exactly who she is. Spy or not, she’s your mate,” she snaps, tendrils of her red curls flying free with each shake of her head.