Page 19 of The Vampire’s Ballerina

I groan and drop my chin to my chest. “Imogen…”

“It didn’t,” she repeats. “Why is it a big deal? Why would you not forgive yourself?”

I raise my head and cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her lower lip. “Because I… I’m worried I may do something irreversible.”

She stares at me, her blue eyes showing the same trust as before, trust I’m not sure I’ve earned or deserve. She opens her mouth to reply, but my phone rings from somewhere among my discarded clothing, cutting off whatever it is she’s about to say.

We both glance around, searching for the source. Imogen circles the couch in one direction, grumbling and finally removing her heels from her feet. I circle in the opposite direction, grabbing my pants from the floor in front of the couch and checking the pockets. When I don’t find it there, I move to the other side. Imogen picks up my suit jacket, pulls my phone from the pocket, and hands it to me, our fingers brushing as I take it from her.

“Hello?” I answer without looking at the caller ID, my eyes locked on Imogen’s.

“Peter? It’s Haven. Is Imogen with you?”

“She is.” I link my fingers with the woman in question and pull her to my side. “It’s Haven,” I mouth to her.

“Is Imogen okay?” Haven asks.

“Are you okay?” I raise my brow at Imogen, but I’m not asking whether she’s still shaken from the chaos at Crescent Lake. I’m asking if she’s okay with what happened between us just moments ago.

“I’m fine.” Imogen stands on her tiptoes to talk into the phone. “Peter took us…” She glances around and bites her lip for a second. “Well, I don’t know where he took us, but I’m safe. What happened at the wedding?”

“Rogue werewolves attacked another pack nearby. They had to evacuate, and we had to send warriors to help. We’re all fine though. No major injuries. Are you sure you’re safe?”

“I have a cabin,” I say. “It’s secluded and has protective enchantments in place. The rogues can’t get to us here.”

“Good.” Haven sighs in relief. “They’ve retreated for the time being, but who knows if they’ll attack again.”

“If they’re smart, they won’t.”

“They’re rogues, Peter. We both know they’re not smart.” Haven huffs out a tired laugh, then turns serious again. “There are also reports of a huge winter storm heading this way. Everyone is saying it’s going to be terrible, with a lot of heavy snow. Do you have enough supplies for a few days? We can send someone with some if you don’t.”

“We’ll be fine,” I say. “Don’t worry about us.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go. Call me if you need anything.”

The line clicks as Haven ends the call. I toss the phone onto the couch and turn my focus back to my ballerina, taking her face in my hands again. I scan her body, examining every inch. My shirt covers her, but only a few buttons are closed, leaving much of her chest exposed, and her lean dancer legs extend beyond the hem that stops right at her creamy thighs. Her nipples are still hard, poking out from behind the fabric, and there’s a hint of pink visible through the white.

She looks so perfect in my clothes. Almost as perfect as she looks naked.

Almost.

“Are you really fine?” I pull my thoughts away from that path. I need to know she’s safe. Unharmed. Comfortable. Protected.

Even if I’m the one she needs protecting from.

Imogen steps closer and wraps her arms around my waist. “Yes.”

“I love you.” I hold her gaze, staring straight into her clear blue eyes. “You are everything to me.”

She blushes and turns her face into my chest, kissing right above my almost-dead heart. “I love you too,” she says against my skin. “And you have my permission to drink my blood. You don’t need to ask.”

I sigh, but I don’t argue. My body and my mind aren’t up for it—too exhausted from blinking us here and using so much of my power reserves to find her during the madness. I just kiss the top of her head and hope the storm isn’t as bad as Haven said it will be.

Chapter Seven

Imogen

I sit in the window seat of the den on our second morning here, my knees pulled to my chest and my coffee mug resting on top of them, dressed in another of Peter’s shirts. Snow falls in heavy sheets, layering across the mountainside. Thick and impenetrable, it creates another shield around Peter’s mountain cabin in addition to the magical one already there.