Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Levette
I had not realized just how much heartache I had been holding onto.
Seeing Warren allowing another to touch him while I was so close, when he knew I could feel his pleasure at the hands of another, had broken all of my restraint in a split second.
It was not enough for me to separate them, to yell at Warren or scare the human; no, I had to eliminate him entirely and make sure Warren was watching.
Warren had been right to call us toxic. We somehow brought out the best and worst in each other simultaneously, fighting to be better while calling on the other to unleash the darkness within.
Our love was an obsession, a need to possess one another until the world around us faded.
Even if we changed and were to become the better versions of ourselves that we wished we could be, I was doubtful that aspect of our story would change.
We would forever be so twisted that nobody else mattered. I loathed it, but I craved it still.
It wounded me to finally understand how profoundly shattered Warren had made me.
I was at fault, too, I knew that, but his constant back and forth had weakened me to the point of soul-deep exhaustion.
Self-doubt was something I chose to escape in my immortal life, yet Warren had caused it to almost take over me during our time apart.
I had spent so many years blaming myself, trying to change and hating myself for not being able to, without realizing that he was sparking that inside me.
Realization, however, did not make my love for him disappear.
It did not even lessen it. Loving Warren felt like my purpose in life, and even if there was a possibility that we would not make it, I would continue to love him still.
He had changed my world and my heart, and I would be remiss to pretend he did not.
I left him in the library and made my way back to the ballroom.
I intended to find Lena and tell her that I could not bring him back from whatever ledge Warren had climbed onto; that was something he would have to do himself.
Trying desperately to save him was making me lose myself, and at some point, we would both reach a point we could not return from.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I reached the band’s stage where I had last seen Lena standing.
She was no longer there, and, given her short stature, I could not see where she was.
I let out a sigh and ran a hand down the column of my throat, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and ready to get the hell out of there.
My breath caught in my throat when I looked up, feeling Warren’s presence immediately. My resplendent angel, my darling downfall.
He was a vision in satin, with wide, loose pants and a shimmering shirt that caught the light as he moved.
It cut down the center of his torso, revealing his delicious pale skin.
Gold embellishments covered his shoulders and lapels, another on his hip where the shirt was ruffled and tied into a knot.
He looked like a perfect statue, one carefully sculpted by the talented hands of Michelangelo or Bernini.
The room seemed to fade away as he walked towards me, his mask long forgotten, revealing the grieved look on his face. He charged towards me with purpose, but the closer he got, the more I could see the black streaks down his cheeks and the wild look in his eye.
My words had pained him as they had me, but it was something I knew we both needed to hear.
I made my way towards him, meeting him in the middle of the room. I knew that the others were around us, lost in their revelry, but all I could see was my Warren—all I ever saw was him.
“I do love you! I’m sorry. This is all my fault.
I love you, I swear,” he said on a broken sob, grabbing my face with both hands.
He pulled me towards him, and I allowed myself to be swept up in the tragic thing that was breaking us both.
His kiss felt like the homecoming I had always wanted; it made me feel human again.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I yanked him closer until our bodies were pressed tightly against one another. Our mouths molded together, fangs nipping and biting at each other as though we craved to be connected by everything we could manage, blood included.
I had missed him for so long that I did not want to waste the embrace. There was nothing rushed about that kiss; every touch and caress felt like the first time, though I feared both of us knew it was more likely to be the last.
Pressing our foreheads together, I split us apart just enough to whisper against his lips. “Dance with me, mon amour.”
Warren smiled, and I was reminded of the first night we met, when our worlds collided, and my heart instantly became his.
I would wish to relive that first evening over and over again, so that I could experience seeing him for the first time again, knowing that he would be the love of my life.
Warren was, and always would be, the sole owner of my heart; all my love would be his until I was nothing but ash.
As the music changed, I placed a hand on the small of his back and entwined our fingers with my other.
With a careful grace, we glided languidly around the room, my focus on him alone.
With every spin, our grip on each other became tighter, weighted down by the gravity of a slow goodbye.
We could not admit it, but we felt it nonetheless.
“Stay with me,” Warren whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He kept his smile in place, but it no longer reached his eyes, as though he knew it was a dream that neither of us could yet achieve. “We could travel the world together. Experience life with me. We do not have to be apart.”
I kept my gaze fixed on him, memorizing every inch of his face even though I knew there was no way I could ever forget. His beautiful eyes and handsome face, the way his mouth twitched before he smiled, or how he looked away at first when he was trying not to cry.
“Where would we go?” I asked, eager to make the dance last longer so that reality could be kept at bay for a while longer.
Warren spun out, and I pulled him back, pressing him tight to my chest. It felt as though our souls were reaching out and trying to hold onto one another. There was an emptiness inside me that I refused to acknowledge—not yet, at least. It was too soon to be without him again.
Warren pressed his cheek against mine, his softness bringing tears to my eyes. I would miss having him pressed against me and would forever mourn for his embrace.
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
I mirrored his smile, knowing that it was all I could manage to stop myself from crying on his skin.
No words seemed adequate, and though I longed to ask more about the dream life we could live together, I could not allow myself to give in to the fantasy.
If I did, even for a moment, I would do whatever it took to make that a reality.
And that was our problem from the start; I would do anything to be with him, and he would hate me for the lengths I would go to.
We drifted together around the room, squeezing tighter as the song came to an end.
We stood in the center of the ballroom, clinging to each other like we needed the touch to survive.
In a way, we did. When the moment ended, and we finally let go, that version of ourselves would be dead.
We would have to learn life all over again, without the hope of waiting for the other to return.
The room remained loud and bustling, moans of pleasure and delirious laughs echoing around us, but when I looked at my beloved, it felt as though my world was silent.
Warren finally let his forehead fall against my shoulder, his shoulders shuddering as he let his sadness free.
I held him, running a hand over his back and tangling in his hair.
If I allowed myself to break, too, I knew I would not recover. And worse, I would not let him go.
We had to move on without each other; otherwise, we would destroy the world and ourselves.
I inhaled deeply, committing his scent to memory. His aroma was home, one that was no longer mine to claim.
“The song is over, baby,” Warren whispered into the hollow of my neck, pressing the faintest kiss to my neck.
“Just a few more moments,” I pleaded, tangling my fingers in the material of his lower back. “Je ne suis pas encore prête à te dire au revoir, mon amour.”
Warren cupped my face in his hands, gently running his thumb over my cheeks. “You do not have to say goodbye. I can’t—I don’t want this to be forever.”
I pressed my forehead against his, our lips almost touching. “I do not want this either, but we have to. We have to save ourselves.”
“I do not think I can live this life without you. To do it seems unbearable.”
Our final kiss was brief, a slight brush of our lips, but it was enough to seal our decision…
my decision. I wanted better for us both, and I was no longer what Warren needed.
When we were around each other, nothing else mattered, and we lost ourselves in each other.
It was unhealthy, and I wanted him to have a life filled with happiness and joy, not one that thrived on chaos, obsession, and jealousy.
“I love you, Warren. That will never change.”
I took a step back, but he gripped the lapels of my coat, holding me. “Please.”
The pain that pulsed through me was palpable, and all my confidence in my decisions shook.
I could hear the desperate plea in his voice, and my instinct was, and always would be, to cave, to give him whatever would make him happy.
But the logical part of me remembered that happiness, true happiness, meant giving him up.
It would destroy me, but if it saved him, I would do it. I would always choose to save him.
A hand grabbed at my bicep, tugging gently. “Levette, head vamp wants to speak to you.”