Chapter 8
Severin
Pacing the flowery field that I had been abducted to, I glared at Peter who only seemed amused over my annoyance. If only I could kill him. Just once. I did not like that Felix wanted to speak to Dina alone. Why? Did he not trust me?
Peter’s phone dinged and he casually read aloud, “You’re free to come back now.” I was back in Felix’s room seconds later.
“Felix?” I said, kneeling next to his bed. “Everything okay?”
“See?” Dina said, sounding awfully smug about something.
I ignored her and focused on my fated. I had never been so afraid before, seeing him faint…
I would never forget it. What had been such a pleasurable experience ended so abruptly.
I had called Peter and rushed Felix to bed.
Then I had to suffer the embarrassment of telling both Peter and Dina about the feeding and the fated thing.
“I, um. Feel better,” he answered, his smile a bit forced. I did not like that; I wanted him to confide in me.
“Can we have a moment?” I asked, speaking to Dina. Peter had not returned with me, likely giving us some space.
“Of course. I’ll tell Joel to make some soup. I think it would do you good, hon.” She patted Felix’s arm before leaving us alone.
“How are you really feeling?” I asked, hoping he would offer me his honesty.
“Fine. I think. I’m a bit confused.”
“Confused?”
He sat up straighter, then turned to face me better. “I heard you believe I’m your fated. I don’t want to deceive you, Severin.”
“Deceive me?” I asked, confused and a tad worried. “I have no doubts you are my fated, Felix. Nothing deceitful about that.”
He groaned, hiding his face with his hands. “I hoped I never had to admit this to any of my masters.” I tried not to bristle at that. I was not simply his master, not anymore. I was his fated and he was mine. We were so much more than the contract between us said. “I drink potions.”
I tilted my head. “Are you sick? Was that why you fainted?” I grabbed his hand, suddenly terrified of losing him. I had only just gotten him.
“No,” he replied with a soft smile as he eyed or clasped hands. “I’m a witch.”
I just stared at him. “And?” I asked, waiting for why that required him to drink potions.
He blinked. “What?”
“Why do you drink potions because you are a witch? That does not make sense to me. Is it a certain potion that keeps you alive?”
He laughed. “Sorry, I guess I just figured you would magically know what potion I drink.”
I shook my head. “I do know of some potions, but only the regular ones. Dina made you one when you woke up, but that is most of what I know.”
“Please don’t judge me for this,” he said, sounding so nervous, and a bit afraid. I tightened my grip on his hand; glad he had not refused my touch. “I make potions that cause my blood to taste sweeter.”
I waited for a beat before asking, “And? Do they make you sick?”
He groaned. “No! They’re the reason you’re so set on us being fated! And I can’t stand making you believe in a lie!”
“Oh,” I said, finally understanding his turmoil. “But that still does not answer why you got sick.”
“You don’t care that I’m not your fated? Really?!” He was getting riled up over nothing, so I placed my other hand on his chest.
“My heart. You are my fated. Those potions cannot fake that feeling.”
He groaned again. “I will stop taking the potion and then you’ll see. I take them every Monday, so come next Tuesday we know for certain I’m free of the effects.”
“Okay,” I agreed easily.
“So, until then, we keep a distance between us.”
“What? I cannot do that, Felix. I just got you!”
He seemed to flinch at my reaction and I mentally slapped myself. “I apologize. Whatever you need.” I was not happy about it, but I could not force him to spend time with me either.
“Thank you,” he said, then just stared at me.
“Oh.” He wanted me to leave. I had to force my legs to walk away, feeling like my already dead heart was breaking as I left my fated behind.
“You are glowing, brother,” Peter greeted cheerily. I had called him over to help but I was already regretting it.
“I hate you.”
“No, you do not,” he replied easily, waving my hate comment off. “Now, what has happened?”
“Felix refuses to believe we are fated. I must keep my distance for a week.”
Peter paled. “A week?! Does he not understand vampire bonds?”
I smiled at his outrage on my behalf. “I do not know, Peter. But I also cannot deny him. I care too much about him to force my company on him.”
“Still, brother, you need to tell him what that will do to you.”
I shook my head. “I fear that would manipulate his need for space.”
He stood next to my desk; arms crossed over his chest while fuming with anger. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help me stay sane,” I begged, not caring how vulnerable I sounded.
“Always,” he answered, kneeling next to me. “I will move in for the week to keep you in line.”
I felt my eyes tear up, something that rarely happened to me. “Thank you.”