Page 28 of Vampire Runner
“What have you thought about?” I set my cup down and lean forward, propping my elbows on the table. Cassandra’s fingers are wrapped around her cup, the steam curling around her hands.
“Us,” she answers, her honey eyes flashing with vulnerability. “Mates. My family.”
I lean back, keeping silent. She doesn’t look at me when she starts talking again.
“My family’s coven controls Boston. They have for generations.” She looks at me, as if trying to weigh my reaction. I keep my expression relaxed and open. This is nothing I don’t know. In fact, I likely know more than she realizes, given Ambrose’s investigation of her history. Something I didn’t know about until after the fact, else I’d have tried to stop him. Everything I learn about Cassandra, I want to hear it from her with trust.
She takes another sip of tea. “I hated the high society of the coven and I could never quite meet my family’s standards. The night of my twentieth birthday, my parents hosted a dinner party—something they hadn’t done in years. It seems, in their infinite wisdom, that my father had arranged for me to be married. When confronted after, he’d told me I should be grateful to have secured a good marriage. That, even if I struggled to perform magic and be the perfect daughter, I carried the family blood and could have powerful children.”
A visceral rage threatens to overwhelm me at the thought of another man touching my little witch, mating her, filling her with their child. Her gaze goes to my balled fists and I force them flat on the table and release a long breath. She is here now with me, even if she hasn’t accepted that we’re mates.
She clears her throat, and her voice takes on a note of anger. “When I tried to reason with my mother and grandmother, both of them said there was no point in arguing and that I would willingly marry the man or they’d cast me from the coven and disown me. They said that my womb was the only thing I had worth offering.”
I can’t stay still at that. I lean forward and wrap my fingers around her wrist. My grip is gentle, as if cradling a butterfly in my palm. When her eyes meet mine, I speak, “They’re wrong.”
Cassandra gives me a pained smile and pats my hand. I release her reluctantly. “Oh, I know. It still hurts all the same.” She visibly recomposes herself. “I pretended to accept their decision. When everyone was asleep that night, I left. When I was far enough away, I sent them a letter. Rather than marry, I did them the favor of leaving. I disowned and disavowed them. It gave me petty satisfaction, even if I’m sure they told the coven otherwise.”
Silence falls between us, but it’s not strained. She’s working through her thoughts and I reach for the tea, needing to do something with my hands so I don’t try to touch her. The drink is much cooler now, but I don’t complain. I’d rather have tepid tea than interrupt her thoughts.
When I set the cup down again, she meets my gaze head-on. There is fire in her eyes, a fire I’ve fallen in love with. There’s also fear, hidden deep within the spark. One that I silently vow to do anything to appease.
“When you said I was the perfect mate, all I could think was how that was impossible—no, wait, let me finish.” She stops me with a raised hand and I hadn’t realized I was moving towards her. I sink back down, my entire body protesting. Everything screams to convince her that she is perfect already.
“Every criticism they gave me came roaring back. I know running was wrong, but how could I consider dragging someone as amazing as you down? It killed me to leave you, but I couldn’t stay. All I could hear was my parents telling me that you’d realize your mistake and leave.” She reaches out and I knock over my cup in the rush to clasp her hand in both of mine, but we both ignore it. “Losing you would break me, Ashe. Break me so badly I don’t think I’d ever recover.”
Her name escapes me in a broken croak and she smiles again. This time there’s joy in the quirk of her lips.
“I love you,” I declare, holding her hand tightly. “You are my mate—every poisonous thing they said about you? I’ll gladly, eagerly, spend the rest of our lives proving them wrong. There is nothing you can do that will ever stop me loving you.”
She laughs, a watery sound but goddamn it, it fills the cracks in my soul. I’ll do whatever it takes to hear that laugh every day for eternity.
“Over the last week, I’ve done a lot of thinking,” she says, halting any other potential romantic overtures. “I realized I’ve been an idiot. I’ve let people who hurt me, who I haven’t seen for decades, take you away from me. I won’t let them ruin us, Ashe.”
Hope lights up my chest. “Does that mean—” I clear the sudden ball in my throat. “You feel it, too? The mate bond forming between us? You accept it?”
Cassandra’s eyes shine brighter than the moon and stars combined. “Yes, Ashe,” she says, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “I am your mate, just as you are mine.”
A growl of satisfaction tears from my chest and I move, using every bit of my vampire speed to round the table and sweep her into my arms. A squeak comes from her lips, a fraction of a second before I kiss her. Then I’m at the foot of her bed in the loft, her hair waving gently from the speed.
I toss her onto the bed, crawling over her, my eyes drinking in every inch of her. When I reach her gaze, I see my own need reflected there. “I’m going to claim you, little witch.” My voice is an unrecognizable rumble, pure savagery and primal instincts. “Mark you and fill you, so every male knows who you belong to.”
Cassandra wraps her arms around my neck, her own lip twisting into a possessive smirk. “I plan to claim you too, vampire. So that every woman knows you’re mine.”
“Take off your clothes, witch.” I pull her upright and Cassandra leans back on her hands. She looks up at me, her cheeks flushed, and her lips kiss-swollen.
Cassandra raises an eyebrow. “Only if you take yours off, vampire.”
I growl, shrugging off my coat and tossing it aside. Cassandra bites her lip, her eyes hungry as I unbutton my shirt and shrug it off.
Cassandra undoes the buttons of her dress, and my fingers itch to do it myself. She moves slowly, torturously, and I rip my belt free, the metal clanging.
She laughs, shimmying from the bodice. I groan, her breasts bared to me, the tips hardened and begging for my touch. Cassandra lies back again, and I yank my boots off.
Cassandra sits up, her fingers reaching for me, and I growl. “Off,” I repeat, gesturing to her skirts.
She obeys, her fingers deft and sure, and I shove my trousers down, kicking them away. Cassandra gasps, her gaze heating even more, and I’m naked before her.
I prowl towards her and Cassandra scoots back, her skirts pooling around her. I crawl over her once more, settling my hips between her thighs. Her core is hot and wet against my aching cock, and I groan, pressing closer.