Chapter 35
35
brOGAN
I cradled Esme's broken body against me, her blood soaking through my shirt as I pressed my bleeding wrist to her lips. "Drink, goddammit." My voice cracked as I desperately tried to heal her. "Es, please," I begged, reopening the wound and repeating the process. "You need to drink."
She remained still, her breathing shallow and irregular. Through our bond, I felt her life energy dimming by the second.
"Fuck!" I yelled, stabbing my hands through my hair. "I can't lose you." I bit my wrist once more, tearing the flesh wider to produce more blood. "Not when I just found you."
Angel knelt on the floor by Esme's head. "Maybe if I massage her throat?"
I didn't respond. I couldn't fucking think besides getting my blood into my mate.
"Come on," Angel said. "Let me do something here to feel useful."
Without taking my eyes from Esme's face, I gave her a sharp nod, then tore my wrist open again. This time, Angel massaged her throat, helping her swallow.
When the wound on my wrist closed up again, I didn't immediately reopen it as we watched.
"I think the swelling's going down," Jamal said.
"Aye," Killian agreed. "It is. And her color is looking better."
My eyes met Angel’s, and I said, "It's working, right? Is it working?"
She nodded. "Yes, I think it is."
Angel could be a bitch sometimes, but that’s why I knew she wouldn't lie to me.
Lifting my arm a bit, I tilted Esme's head back slightly, watching the next trickle of blood drip into her mouth as Angel tried to work it down her throat. Some of it ran down her chin, wasted. The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, each second longer than the last.
A faint moan escaped Esme’s lips, and I pulled back, hope surging through me.
"Es?" I positioned my wrist over her mouth again. "That's it, darlin'. Drink."
Her eyelids fluttered, and her tongue licked my skin as she began to take the blood on her own. Relief washed through me so intensely I nearly collapsed.
"Good girl," I whispered. "Take as much as you need."
I didn't know how long we stayed like that, Angel, Esme, and I, but it seemed like hours before her bones shifted back into place as I held her. My heart broke into tiny pieces when she cried out from the pain, only to swell beneath my ribs when her hand weakly grasped my arm, holding it in place as she was able to take stronger pulls.
She was fighting her way back to me.
The others stayed with us, scattered throughout the room, offering her their silent strength. Even Kenya, standing in the back with tears running silently down her cheeks.
I felt Killian's eyes on me as he probed around in my head. "Stop it," I told him, but there was no hostility behind my words. I knew he was only worried.
“Ye're going to need to stop soon. Ye’re losing too much blood."
"I'm fine."
"He's right," Angel agreed, still kneeling on the floor beside my legs, although she didn't need to help Esme swallow anymore. "You look like a goddamn vampire, for once."
"Take her to bed and let her rest," Lizzy told me. "And you, too."
Without removing my wrist from her mouth, I stood, just to shut them all up, holding my precious cargo in one arm while she drank from the other. With a nod of thanks at Angel, I headed toward the stairs and carried her up to my room.
Esme released my wrist when I laid her down on the bed, sighing in contentment as I removed her boots and jeans and shirt, leaving her in her underwear. I pulled the comforter up over her before climbing in beside her. I wanted to take her into the shower and clean her up, but much as I hated to admit it, the others were right. My head was woozy and my legs and arms were weak.
"I should have trusted you." My fingers trembled as I stroked her face. "You tried to protect me from him, and I—" My voice broke. "I thought you were only using me."
She turned her head toward me, like she could hear me even in sleep.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pulled her closer, pressing my forehead to hers. "Please forgive me, Es."
She didn't respond. But her heartbeat was steady and her breaths were relaxed and even. And eventually, I couldn't hold my eyes open anymore.
I woke with a violent start, my body tensed for an attack. Something moved beneath me. The events in the cemetery rushed back—Marcus, Alice being taken, Esme nearly dying in my arms...
Esme.
She stirred, shifting beneath the weight of my arm. My heart stuttered as I raised up on my elbow to study her face.
"Brogan?" Her voice sounded clear and strong—nothing like the broken woman I'd carried home.
"I'm right here, darlin'." I brushed her hair back from her face, desperately scanning for any lingering injuries. The bruises that had marred her skin were completely gone, as was the swelling. Only dried blood remained as a reminder of what had happened to her. "How do you feel?"
"I feel..." She stretched beneath the covers, a look of wonder crossing her face. "Amazing, actually. Like I could run a marathon." She sat up abruptly, throwing off the covers as she inspected her own body. "How is this possible? I was broken. I felt it all breaking."
I couldn't speak, just watched her as she inspected her body.
"Your blood did this?" She looked at me with wide eyes.
"I wasn't sure if it would be enough. You were..." My throat closed as I remembered the condition she’d been in when I'd raced back to the house with her in my arms. I couldn't finish the sentence.
She stared at me for a long time, then wrinkled her nose. "I need a shower." Throwing off my arm, she jumped from the bed and sauntered over to her suitcase, giving me a fine show of her sweet ass when she bent over to pull some clothes from it. "What happened to Marcus?" she asked. "Is everyone okay?"
When I didn't answer, she straightened and turned around, black pants and a red pullover in her arms.
"Brogan? What happened?"
Sitting up against the headboard, I quietly filled her in on everything she'd missed. She didn't move through the entire thing.
"Alex is gone?" she asked.
I nodded.
Esme looked down at the floor for a minute, and when she raised her head, there were tears in her eyes.
"No.” I jumped out of bed and went over to her. "This isn't your fault."
"Yes," she told me, staring up at me with big, dark eyes. "It is. This wouldn't have happened if I could've just found his damn book."
“He's been here before. Before you ever came into my life. Alice and Alex are distant relatives of his. It's them he's been after all along. Not you."
Those little lines appeared between her brows as she looked up at me. "Where is Alice?"
"Last I knew, she was back with her coven."
"Good," she whispered. "That's good."
I stared down at her, struggling to find the words that would make her feel better, but coming up empty. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."
She nodded distractedly. "Give me just a minute before you come in please," she told me.
"Sure. I'll wait until I hear the water come on." I waited for her to tell me she wanted to shower alone, but she didn't. Which was a good thing because I didn't know that I'd be able to let her out of my sight for that long.
She went across the hall and I shut the door to my room and leaned against it, trying to give her some privacy while listening intently for the sound of running water. A cold sweat broke out on my head as I replayed the horrific events of the night in my mind and the sheer terror of almost losing her. Every time I closed my eyes, even just to blink, the haunting image of her broken body flashed before me, seared into my memory.
I couldn't shake the overwhelming fear that gripped me even now, the realization of how close I’d come to losing the one person who meant everything to me.
When the shower started, I gave her another minute before entering the bathroom and dropping my clean clothes next to hers. Steam had already filled the small space, fogging the mirror. Through the clear shower door, I admired her curvy body as she stood under the spray, her head tilted back as water cascaded over her face.
"Can I join you?" I asked, my voice rough with a need I couldn't control.
"Of course," she told me. "You need a shower, too."
I stepped in beside her, letting the hot water wash over me. Blood—hers and mine—swirled at our feet before disappearing down the drain. Without a smile, she reached for my shampoo and squeezed some into her palm.
"Lean down," she instructed.
I bent forward slightly so she could reach my head, my hands resting on her full hips. Her fingers worked through my hair with gentle pressure, and I closed my eyes, savoring her touch. It was such a simple thing, washing someone's hair, but it was one of the most intimate experiences of my life.
"I thought I'd lost you," I whispered, my arms encircling her waist and pulling her closer.
"You saved me." Her hands moved from my hair to my face, sudsy thumbs brushing over my cheekbones.
"Of course, I did. I would die for you, Esme." Bringing her with me as we swapped spots, I leaned my head back and rinsed out the shampoo.
"Why?"
The word was so quiet, I wasn't sure I'd heard her right at first. "Why?"
" Sí . Why?"
I stared at Esme through the steam, water running down her face and shoulders, making her skin glisten. Confusion made me frown down at her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me.
"Because I love you, Esme. I'm in love with you."
The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them—before I could analyze or question them. It was the most natural thing I'd ever said, like exhaling after holding my breath for centuries.
"I know we haven't known each other long. I know it sounds crazy." I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. "But I've lived for decades feeling nothing but emptiness and shame, and then you walked into that club and changed everything." A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered. "Hell, I think I was halfway in love with you the first night I saw you, looking so pretty sitting at the bar. I wanted you to join me in the private room just so I could talk to you alone. So I could see how beautiful you were close up."
She remained silent, her dark eyes searching mine.
"I tried to fight it. I told myself it was just bloodlust or physical attraction." My voice cracked as memories of my cult upbringing threatened to surface. "I still thought that feelings like these were sinful, dangerous. I've spent my whole life—human and vampire—believing I don’t deserve love."
The water pounded against my back as I pressed my forehead against hers.
"But I can't deny what I feel for you anymore. It's like you've woken something inside me that I didn't even know was there. I don't know if it's fate, or just because I can't get enough of that red lipstick on your perfect mouth, but it's true." I closed my eyes, feeling way too vulnerable for my own liking. "When I saw you with him in the cemetery…Christ, Es, there's nothing I wouldn’t have done to save you."
I pulled back slightly, needing to see her face. "You're the strongest, smartest, sweetest, most courageous and fucking annoying woman I've ever met. And I love you, Esme."
My hands trembled as I searched her face, trying to get some idea of how she felt about all this.
The water continued to cascade down around us, filling the silence between my confession and her answer as I waited for her response, trembling with vulnerability and feeling naked inside as well as out.
Her eyes filled with tears, and for one terrible moment, I feared I'd made a horrible mistake. Then her hands came up to wrap around my wrists, her touch so gentle it made my chest ache.
"I love you too, Brogan." Her voice broke on my name. "I tried not to. I told myself I couldn't fall for anyone because Marcus would use it against me." A tear slipped down her cheek, mingling with the shower water. "But I couldn't stop myself. And I'm so sorry I dragged you into my mess. But I'm also very glad I did, or I never would've gotten to know you."
The breath rushed out of my lungs as I gathered her closer, feeling the strong beats of her heart against my chest and listening to her blood rush through her veins over the sound of the shower.
"When Marcus was hurting me, all I could think about was you. How I needed to survive for you." She pressed her forehead against my chest. "I was so scared he'd kill you to punish me."
"I'm right here," I whispered, pressing my lips to her wet hair. "We're both here."
"And when I was dying, I could feel you. I felt your rage, your fear. I felt how desperately you tried to reach me."
"I would've torn the world apart to save you," I admitted. “I still would.”
"I know." She smiled against my skin.
I kissed her then, tasting salt and water and the sweetness that was uniquely Esme. Every wall I'd built around myself over decades crumbled in that moment, washed away by her love.
The kiss deepened, her tongue brushing against mine as water streamed down around us. Her confession had unlocked something primal inside me—a need that went beyond blood or physical release. I needed to show her what words couldn't express, needed to feel her alive and whole against me.
My hands slid down her wet skin, mapping the curves I'd nearly lost forever. Every inch of her was a miracle—restored, healed, vibrant with life. I lifted her against the shower wall, her legs wrapping around my waist as our mouths remained fused together.
"I thought I'd lost you," I murmured against her lips. "When I saw what he did to you?—"
"I'm here," she whispered, her fingers threading through my wet hair. "I'm right here."
Her body pressed against mine, soft where I was hard, yielding where I pushed. The water washed away the last traces of blood and fear, and I trailed kisses down her neck, moaning as her pulse raced beneath my lips.
"Taste me," she whispered.
The impulse was hard to ignore. I needed her. Her body. Her blood. Needed to prove to myself she was alive, sweet and warm around me. Inside of me.
"Brogan, please," she begged, her hips moving restlessly against the tip of my cock.
"You almost died."
"But I didn't. And you gave me so much. You need this."
"I'm fine," I lied, avoiding her eyes.
"No, you're not." She tilted her head to the side, exposing her throat to my hungry eyes. "Take what you need."
The sight of her offering herself to me, water streaming down her throat and between her breasts, nearly brought me to my knees. I pressed her against the shower wall, my lips finding hers in a desperate kiss.
"Please," she whispered against my mouth. "Let me do this for you."
When I hesitated, she guided my head to her neck. "I want this. I want you."
I couldn't resist any longer. My fangs, already extended, sank deep into her soft flesh. Her blood—sweet, spicy, powerful, perfect —flowed into me as her arms tightened around my shoulders. I groaned as it pumped into my mouth, my body igniting.
The shower steam surrounded us like a protective cocoon, sealing us away from the world and its dangers as I drank from my love, her fingers tangling in the wet hair at the nape of my neck.
I hadn't had near enough when I removed my fangs and laved my tongue over the bite. "Esme…"