Page 113 of Burn for Her

“I couldn’t wake you,” he said. “You kept screaming my name, but I couldn’t wake you.”

He kissed her hand and placed it over his frantically beating heart. “It just about gave me a damn heart attack.” Dorian wrapped his arms around her and clutched her so tight, she lost breath.

Lena started crying again. That dream was her wake up call. It was frighteningly accurate and real. That hollowness. That torment. That emptiness from a loveless void chilled the marrow in her bones. And the mirror... the flare of hope when she looked into that stupid mirror…

Was that what it was like for vampires who hadn’t found their mate? A constant emptiness, an agonizingly cold longing for someone you weren’t even sure existed? To think Dorian went his whole life feeling that way broke her heart.

For all the agony of longing she suffered, there was also a rush of excitement and hope when she heard his voice. Warmth filled her belly and spread down her limbs. It was incredible. Was that what it felt like to find your missing piece? Was that what turning into a vampire would be like? Was that what having a fated mate meant? Two broken people with their pieces in mid-air, mid-explosion, halted and reformed into an unbreakable force? No… Dorian was already an unbreakable force.

Her gaze sailed across Dorian’s features.

“Talk to me,” he whispered. “You’re thinking so loud, my bones rattle with it, but I can’t hear what your mind is screaming. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need help with.”

“Kiss me?”

He didn’t hesitate. Sealing his mouth over hers his kiss burrowed into her soul, giving her warmth and strength. He took his time with it. Deepened it a little more with every stroke of his tongue.

Cradling the back of her head, he held her captive. Her body homed in on the fierceness with which he cherished her. He was hurting, too. Always had been. His father had butchered his soul down to slivers of what he might have been. Would she feel this in love with Dorian if he was any other way?

No… she didn’t think she would.

Lena couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone other than this man, the way he was now, just as he was now. Whatever made him the Reaper, whatever shaped him into a deadly force to be reckoned with… she didn’t disparage it. She was grateful instead. She loved Dorian from the tip of his blade to the bottoms of his boots. If that made her sick and twisted, so be it. She loved Dorian just as he was—sharp edges, haunted soul, and all.

Chapter 36

Dorian flashed back to Lena and spent nearly six hours holding her in his arms while she’d slept. It was the greatest six hours of his life except when she twitched, whimpered, then all out screamed his name. Dorian unraveled.

If he had the skill of dream-walking, he could have plunged into her dreamscape to save her from whatever made her so terrified she called out for his help.

Such longing in her voice. Such devastation in each tremble she made against his embrace.

He knew that pain. That torment. Spent his existence suspended in such paralyzing ache.

If he could slay the beasts haunting her nightmares, he would in a heartbeat. Any beasts that came after her in reality, Dorian already considered dead men walking. Thankfully, he was able to wake her up.

But now she was crying her eyes out and he had no clue how to fix it.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he said against her mouth. “Nothing, Lena.” He’d shred the skin from his own body, down to the bone, if it spared her a second of pain. He’d burn the world to the ground for her. Walk through Hellfire for a chance to caress her sweet skin. It would be worth it. She was worth anything, everything…

He confessed all of that and more to her while kissing every inch of her body, slipping her clothes off, and crawling on top to kiss her hot, silken mouth again.

“Turn me,” she insisted.

Dorian hovered above her, his hands bracketing, caging her beneath his hard, frazzled body.

“If you’d do anything for me… prove it. Turn me. Now, Dorian.”

Aww hell.

“Actions speak louder than pretty words.” Lena wrapped her hand around his neck. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for me. I don’t want you to fight my nightmares, lay waste to lands, or sell your soul. I want you to give me yourself. Give me life with you.”

His heart bucked like a panicked stallion—kicking and wishing to bolt out of confinement.

“Live for me.” She squeezed the back of his neck, her eyes pleading. “Don’t abandon me when I’ve finally found you.”

He couldn’t take it. Not her tone, her words, the look in her eyes. She wasn’t asking for him to turn her for immortality’s sake. She was begging him to turn her so he survived.

“I love you.” Her tears fell. He licked them away, unable to speak the words etched into his dark soul.