Page 53 of Burn for Her
Dorian knew she was calculating her next move. He found himself enthralled with her ability to roll with the punches until she found a weak spot to strike, which was exactly what she could have done the instant he dropped to his knees and gasped for breath a few moments ago.
But she hadn’t run. She stayed. He hated how it made his heart swell.
Dorian teetered between right and wrong. Sanity and surrender. He was deteriorating in strange ways. There was no sequence he could figure out. First his senses, then his mind, now his body. His bones ached as if turning brittle under his skin. On the car ride here, he was freezing, and his fingernails had turned blue. But the instant he touched Lena, Dorian’s ailments weren’t as agonizing. He warmed again. Could think and move with coordination.
If he bit her, drank her, would he be completely cured? Or would he have to turn her in order to completely heal from the curse of the damned?
Lena looked like a sunset - draped in warm colors. She sank down on the floor with him, her hands in her lap. As if she was the sun itself, Lena was too beautiful to look at directly. He felt as if her image would burn into his retinas if he made eye contact right now.
His body burned for her. Hardened and sizzled for one graze of her fingertip. His fangs throbbed to pierce her veins—and he particularly wanted to taste the one on her inner thigh. He needed to get her to understand this wasn’t some elaborate joke. It wasn’t a tourist trap either. He was going to fucking die without her.
How could he say that without sounding completely insane?
“My kind,” he said, clearing his throat and rising to his feet. He couldn’t say this from the ground like a wounded animal. He needed a show of strength or she’d never consider him a good match. Pulling her up to stand with him, he loved how steady she was. “My kind are cursed, Lena. We can survive without a mate, only if we haven’t seen them.”
“You don’t miss what you never had.”
“Something like that.” He wiped his mouth and rolled his shoulders back. “Once we see our mate, we start to darken. That’s part of the curse as well.” He staggered closer to her and hated how she backed up. It was smart on her part but made his admission harder. “I saw you last week, and Lucian helped me gather information on you.”
“Hence why golden boy knew my family’s name and way too many other things about me.”
“I didn’t know any of that,” he said quickly. “I only knew your name and address.” The instant those words left his big, fat mouth, he knew he was in trouble.
“You… you’ve been to my house?” Lena took several steps back now. “What the hell is this, Dorian?”
“I just told you!” His voice rose with desperation. “Things change for us once we see our mate. I—” A knock at the door cut off his next words. Whoever it was better back the fuck up if they valued their lives. “Leave us!” he roared.
Lucian popped his head in. “The King wants to see her.”
Fuck, shit, damnit! “Fine.” He went to grab her hand, because there was no way he was going to let her waltz down the hall and into the king’s mirrored room without him as her shield. The vampires of this House didn’t all get along with Dorian.
Jealousy was a nasty animal—hungry all the time, always searching for its next meal. Some of the vampires here might try to attack her, if only to get at Dorian to make him lose his shit and ultimately die. Few in this House liked him. He might be one of King Malachi’s favored ones, but he didn’t have that status with everyone. Most would love to see him dead or gone—all because he was sired by a psychopath and then raised by wolves. In their eyes, he was dirty. A stain upon vampire society.
“I’ll take her,” Lucian offered.
“You lay one hand on her, and I’ll bite it off.”
“I’ll take myself. How about that?” Lena rushed out of their reach and headed for the door.
Dorian noticed Victoria leaning against the railing in the hallway, a wry smile across her porcelain face. He snarled at her. She blew him a kiss and walked with Lena.
Damnit. He stumbled towards the door to catch up and swallowed down the vomit rising in his throat. Holy Hell, he was a mess.
Lucian tried to help, but he shoved a hand up. “I can make it on my own.”
“I know you can.” Lucian’s voice dropped with a hint of sorrow. “But I don’t know if anyone here will survive your wake as you follow your alakhai down this fucking hall. Do me a favor and let me guard you, and ultimately spare anyone here your fury, because it’s going to get worse long before it gets better. You’re taking forever to turn her.”
“You don’t know,” Dorian struggled to take in air, “how hard it is to stop myself. I think,” he sucked in another lung-full, “I could possibly rip her throat out by accident if I attempt to bite her. I tested it once already… nearly killed me just letting her skin touch my tongue.”
Lucian groaned. “At the risk of sounding like a complete shithead, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes, man.”
Dorian was glad too. He never wanted Lucian to feel this level of agony. At least Dorian had built up a tolerance to this kind of anguish.
But when Lena disappeared behind the door with the king, Dorian realized he only thought he knew what agony felt like. The instant the door locked, keeping him out, Dorian was overcome with a fresh wave of unimaginable pain.
His knees buckled, he slammed down on the ground and screamed.
Chapter 19