Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Fabian stood at the tall windows of his study, watching the sun set over New Orleans while war raged in his chest. He sipped warm blood from the exquisite eighteenth-century crystal goblet.
Two hundred years of careful control, half his long vampire life spent on calculated moves and strategic patience; now everything threatened to unravel because of one brilliant, wounded woman sleeping two floors above him.
He’d told himself the attraction was merely aesthetic appreciation, despite his centuries-long obsession with the Le Voile women and their power.
Summer’s intelligence, her compassion, the way she’d chosen love over immortality.
But somewhere between her first night at Le Sang and this moment, his appreciation was morphing into something far more dangerous.
It made his carefully laid plans feel like betrayal rather than necessity.
The wolf was secured, the experiments proceeding according to schedule, his agreement with Axel had delivered Summer to his home, the Vatican hunters were satisfied with their collaboration.
Everything was falling into place exactly as he’d orchestrated months ago.
He snapped the stem of the wine glass. Why did he now feel like he was destroying something precious instead of claiming a prize he’d earned?
Because Summer wasn’t just a prize to be won.
She was a woman who deserved better than the beautiful lies he was weaving around her, better than the exquisite prison he was constructing with such meticulous care.
And yet he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her, couldn’t resist the opportunity to offer comfort when she needed it most.
A soft knock interrupted his brooding. “Master Delacour? Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you, Vincent.” Fabian turned from the window, his decision made.
Tonight, he would remind Summer exactly what he could offer her, the future awaiting her if she chose to stop clinging to the wolf who’d abandoned her.
And if his conscience protested… well, a conscience was a luxury he’d learned to live without long ago.
The dining room had been transformed into a scene from a fairy tale. Candles cast warm light over the crystal and antique silver, while a fire crackled in the marble fireplace. The long formal table had been set for two, creating an intimate atmosphere despite the room’s grand proportions.
Summer paused in the doorway, taking in the obvious care that had gone into the preparations. “This is beautiful, but you didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble when the company merits the effort.
That is a beautiful gown.” Fabian moved to pull out her chair, his fingers brushing her shoulders as she sat.
He was pleased to see she was wearing the dress he’d instructed Vincent to lay out for her.
“Besides, I thought you might appreciate a proper dinner after the stress of recent days.”
He’d chosen the wine carefully—the vintage would complement both the meal and his intentions—and he watched with satisfaction as Summer took her first sip. A slight flush coloring her cheeks told him the wine was having the desired effect.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, settling across from her. “You still seemed distressed this morning when I brought your breakfast. You didn’t have any more nightmares, did you?”
“Confused,” Summer admitted. Fabian watched her fingers running up and down the stem of her wine glass. “I keep feeling like I’m missing something important, as if there are gaps in my memory I can’t explain.”
“Stress can affect memory in unexpected ways. Perhaps you’re simply overwhelmed by everything.” Fabian kept his voice gentle, concerned. “It’s natural to feel disoriented when your entire world changes so dramatically.”
The first course arrived—Vincent serving with his usual quiet competence—and Fabian steered the conversation toward safer topics.
Summer’s medical training, her childhood in New Orleans, the books she’d been reading in his library.
He listened with genuine interest, filing away every detail that might help him understand what made her so remarkable.
As the evening progressed, he found himself forgetting his strategic objectives.
Summer’s intelligence was intoxicating, her passion for healing others genuinely moving.
When she laughed at one of his stories, the sound sent warmth through his chest that had nothing to do with manipulation and everything to do with the centuries of loneliness he’d trained himself not to acknowledge.
“You’re very different from what I expected when I first met you,” Summer said over the main course, her cheeks flushed from wine and warmth.
“Different how?”
“More… human, I suppose. When I first encountered you in the hospital chapel, you seemed remote, untouchable. But here, like this…” She gestured around the intimate table setting. “You’re just a man who appreciates good food and interesting conversation.”
The observation struck deeper than she must have intended. For the first time in decades, he was letting someone see beyond the carefully constructed fa?ade, allowing genuine emotion to color his words and actions. It was dangerous and intoxicating and utterly foolish.
“Perhaps you’re seeing me as I truly am rather than as I present myself to the world,” he murmured. “It’s been a long time since anyone looked at me and saw simply a man rather than a vampire lord.”
Summer’s expression shifted, softening and making his breath catch. “Thank you. For letting me see you.”
When Vincent cleared the dessert plates and discreetly withdrew, Fabian rose and extended his hand to Summer.
“Would you care for brandy in the library? The fire is alight in there, and the armchairs are more comfortable for conversation.” His memory flickered to the sofa where he had seduced her only a few months ago, and his cock twitched, causing him to shift his stance slightly for the sake of comfort.
The library’s atmosphere was intimate, romantic in a way the formal dining room couldn’t match.
Fabian poured amber liquid into crystal brandy glasses while Summer settled into one of the leather chairs near the fireplace, the flames casting dancing shadows across her face.
Vincent had staged the room to perfection.
“To new beginnings,” Fabian said, raising his glass in a toast.
“To finding what I didn’t know I was looking for,” Summer replied, meeting his eyes over the crystal rim.
He moved to sit beside her rather than in the opposite chair, close enough to catch the subtle scent of her perfume mixed with wine and warmth. “And what is it you’ve found?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet.” Summer’s voice was soft, and she bit her lower lip. “Everything in my life has been turned upside down. The pack, Rowan, my sense of where I belong. But here, with you, I feel… steady. Like maybe there’s a future I hadn’t considered.”
The admission hung between them. Fabian set his brandy aside and reached for her trembling hands, finding them warm in his grasp.
“Summer,” he said, her name a whisper in the fire-lit quiet. “You must know how I feel about you. How I’ve felt since I met you in the chapel.”
“I know you care about me. But Fabian, I’m still?—”
“Still bound to a wolf who chose to leave you rather than fight for what you had together.” His thumb traced across her knuckles. “I would never abandon you, Summer. Never choose duty or honor or fear over the woman I love.”
Love.
The word was loaded with such promise and possibility. Summer’s eyes widened, and for a moment neither of them moved.
“Love?” she whispered.
“Did you think I would open my home, my resources, my private sanctuary to just anyone? Did you imagine I spent centuries collecting knowledge only to share it carelessly?” Fabian brought one of her hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm.
“I love your brilliance, your compassion, your courage. I love the way you chose love over immortality, the way you fight for what you believe in. I love you, Summer Vale, and I want to give you everything the wolf couldn’t or wouldn’t. ”
When he leaned forward to kiss her, she didn’t pull away as she had the night before.
Her lips were soft, warm, tasting a little of the tainted wine and a desperate longing caused by too many nights alone.
He deepened the kiss slowly, carefully, as if they both understood this was a moment that would change everything.
“Fabian,” she whispered against his mouth, and the sound of his name spoken with such need made his chest crack open.
He drew her closer, marveling at how perfectly she fit in his arms, how right it felt to hold her against his still chest and feel her heart racing. When she looked up at him, her eyes were dark with desire and uncertainty in equal measure.
“I don’t want to think about anything else tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to worry about Rowan or the pack or what any of this means. I just want to feel something other than… abandoned.”
The honesty in her voice nearly undid him.
He understood the need to escape pain, to lose oneself in sensation and connection rather than face the harsh realities of loss.
And if part of him whispered that he was taking advantage of her vulnerability, he silenced it by reminding himself he truly cared for her.
This wasn’t merely manipulation but something far more complex. This was love.
When he kissed her again, it was with all the passion and longing he’d been holding back since the night she first walked into his home. She responded with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair as she let herself surrender to the moment.