Chapter Twenty-Six
Jonathan pressed his cheek to the cold earth and tried in vain to block out the searing pain in his extremities.
He’d feared mating would change him as it had Marcus and Cordon, but he’d failed to realize it hadn’t been mating that had instigated their transformations.
Cordon had given up his wild ways because he’d no longer feared death after marrying Kitty.
Likewise, Marcus wasn’t a recluse anymore because Winifred had helped him face the trauma that had trapped him in his Scottish castle.
In contrast, Marguerite had become almost unrecognizable during her absence, which hadn’t involved mating at all.
But now she was dead, and Felicity surely hated him after he’d said they would only ever be enemies.
An odd, distorted sound reached him, like someone shouting at him from above water while he was submerged.
“Jonathan!”
That was Felicity. What was she doing in the house? He lifted his aching hand, which was so scorched, he could see the white of his bones, and touched her fingers. She flinched.
The severity of the situation jolted him fully awake. “Damn it, woman, what are you doing? Get out of here!”
“You’re not allowed to die,” she said in a raspy voice. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it’ll be me.”
It was at that point he realized she was pinned beneath a pile of rubble.
Her weak human body would not survive the smoke much longer.
He rose to his hands and knees with a groan.
The fire had seared the flesh from his arms and neck, but the agony that accompanied even the smallest of movements was nothing compared to the thought of Felicity dying.
He grasped her hand and dragged her free.
Embers drifted from the ceiling. If she stayed inside much longer, she’d never leave.
He dragged her to the stairs, but as his foot landed on the first step, the wood crumbled. He grasped the railing, but it did the same.
They were trapped.
He removed his cravat, wrapped it around her nose and mouth, then pressed her cheek to his chest. “You shouldn’t have come.”
She curled her fingers in his shirt and coughed violently.
“I suppose now that we’re going to die, I can tell you the truth.” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”
At that moment, something sparked between them like a flicker of electricity, and his mind expanded. He felt not only the heat of the flames behind him, but a rattling in his chest and powerful arms wrapped around his back. He could sense her in his mind, a glowing ball of warmth.
She hadn’t said the words in response, but her love pulsed between them.
So, this was the mating bond. He’d been foolish to resist. Without even trying, she’d filled the chasm in his heart. The connection was so intense that it brought tears to his eyes. How had he gone his entire life without realizing a part of him was missing?
Her desperation to escape suddenly hit him, chasing away the last of the coldness that had settled in his bones. There was still a way. If he turned her, the initial burst of fledgling strength would give her the ability to escape.
He tore open his wrist with his fangs and lowered the wound to her mouth.
She jerked her head away while still coughing. No.
She hadn’t spoken. Her words were in his mind.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He wouldn’t turn her against her will.
An electric heat flickered through his head. Irritation. She was willing to become a vampire, but not if it meant losing him.
He caressed her cheek with numb fingers. “It’s the only way.”
She shook her head, then grabbed his still-bleeding wrist and began to drink.