Chapter Thirty-Two
“Don’t give up,” Kitty’s voice whispered in Cordon’s ear.
It was nothing but a dream, of course. Thanks to him and Seraphina, Kitty would be occupied with the shop. Right now, she was probably bent over her worktable in a fury of excitement.
Ah, that was a lovely thought, imagining Kitty’s remarkable dresses worn by members of society, perhaps even royalty.
She would never have to struggle with money again.
Perhaps it was unreasonable to think so positively, but no one else had to know what he was imagining.
In his mind, Kitty rose to the top of her craft and became the most sought-after dressmaker in London.
She fell in love with a kind, wealthy man and wanted for nothing.
A worthy happily-ever-after for a remarkable woman.
“It’s progressing faster than I expected,” Dr. Rysel said.
What was his physician doing in his bedchamber?
“Is he going to die?” Kitty asked.
There was something in her voice that bothered him. He stared at the blankets that were draped over his head.
Fear.
It wasn’t a dream. He was awake and Kitty was afraid for him. That was better than being afraid of him. If Seraphina had fulfilled his wish, Kitty was now aware of vampires. He tried to move, but his limbs would not obey him.
“There is one way to reverse the effects,” Dr. Rysel said.
Of course his physician was still trying to save him, despite it being pointless. He would die as his maker had. He could only hope it would happen while he was asleep. Then the pain would be over.
“I’ll do anything,” Kitty whispered.
“Let him feed on you.”
Footfalls. Kitty was pacing.
“He’s already done that,” she said.
She sounded so scared. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“He was not open to love before,” Dr. Rysel said. “His resistance, or yours, or both, prevented the bond from forming.”
Cordon drifted away again and when he came back, he was sitting upright, with Kitty straddling his lap.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and drew his face to a ragged gash on her neck.
He instinctively licked, then shuddered as her honey-sweet blood filled his mouth.
He’d nearly forgotten how delicious she tasted.
“Bite me,” Kitty whispered.
“You do not know what you’re asking,” he said.
He was so weak that he might not be able to stop. It was too dangerous. He tried to pull back, but she had a firm grip on his hair.
“Please, Cordon. Lady Kilkenny told me what you are. I think…I’ve known for some time. I just didn’t want to believe it.”
He turned his head. What was the point of drinking when he was just going to die, anyway? His throat hurt too much to let anything down but air.
Her blood coated his lips and dripped down his chin. The warmth of it on his cool skin combined with her sharp, cherry scent made him dizzy, like he had drunk an entire flagon of mead.
“Bite me,” Kitty whispered, again.
The last of his restraint vanished beneath the pleading in her tone. He extended his fangs and sunk them deep into her flesh, then swallowed mouthful after mouthful of her delicious blood. It coursed through his body, warming him from the inside out, taking with it his aches and pains.
If he kept drinking, he was going to kill her.
Something snapped in his head, like a rope suddenly stretched taut.
He forcibly withdrew his fangs and licked her skin until the bleeding stopped and the wound healed. The ache in his muscles was gone, but there was a new pain in his neck. He touched the area that hurt, but there was no injury.
“Did it work?” Kitty asked. She took his face in her hands. “How do you feel?”
Looking into her eyes felt like he was falling into an endless abyss. He could actually feel her concern, like a gentle thrum pulsing from her to him through a shining, silver thread in his mind.
“The bond has formed,” Dr. Rysel said.
Cordon whipped his head around. “You.”
“Lord Grayson.” Dr. Rysel inclined his head. “I have good news.”
He tried to be furious at his physician, but Kitty’s relief poured through their bond and suffocated his anger like a blanket thrown atop a fire. His love for her was the only thing he wanted to feel.
“‘Good news’?” he asked.
Dr. Rysel clasped his hands together at his waist. “You should no longer experience symptoms of mate atrophy.”
“But she’s not a vampire.”
“That is irrelevant. I told you several times that love was the component you were missing. You were simply too focused on yourself.”
He closed his eyes. Now it made sense. He was still dreaming. This scenario was a product of his feverish mind. He squirmed out of Kitty’s embrace, then crawled beneath the blankets and pulled them over his head.
“Leave me be.”
A steady warmth thrummed through their bond and made Cordon’s skin prickle. She was happy. He wanted to reach across the thread and share in her delight, but doing so would only make him feel worse when he inevitably woke and realized he was more alone than ever.
“He needs rest,” Dr. Rysel said. “The bond should prevent his condition from worsening. If it does not…” Shuffling sounds. “You must contact me, and I will return at once.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Dr. Rysel was talking to her as if she were his betrothed. That was the proof he needed to confirm he was asleep. He closed his eyes and drifted back into the void.
When he came back to himself, his neck still throbbed with pain, but his head didn’t feel so full of sand.
He pulled up his shirt. The bruise on his side was still terrible, but the dark purple had faded to green-and-yellow mottling.
His head also wasn’t as hot. He stretched his limbs and found they didn’t ache nearly as much as they had the last time he’d been awake. That was odd.
“There you are,” Kitty said.
He searched the darkness until he found her sitting on a stool beside his bed.
“The doctor left instructions for further treatments,” Kitty said. “Should I prepare one?”
None of this made sense. Kitty urging him to drink from her. Dr. Rysel saying he was cured. None of it had been real.
Kitty rose, walked over to his desk, and picked up a wicked-looking dagger. She ran it along her upper arm, then let the blood collect into a glass.
The silver thread connecting them flashed to life, sending him an echo of the sharp pain. The bond was weak, hardly a strand of spider silk, but its existence filled him with hope.
“Treatment,” Cordon whispered. “You mean…” It couldn’t have been real. Five decades spent searching, and he’d succeeded.
“You should feel better after this,” Kitty said as she wrapped a bandage around her wound.
He stared at his palms. She was right. Already, he was stronger and more alert than he had felt in months. All because Kitty had helped, literally bleeding for him. And she was still human.
A cup was pressed into his hands.
“Drink,” she said.
What else could he do but obey?
He finished the glass and tried not to think about how much he enjoyed it.
Then he settled back down on the bed and looked at her with a new awareness.
A sense of something he’d never allowed himself to feel, as he’d always been careful to keep his previous lovers from getting too close in case they had not been his mate, and he would have had to move on.
That had been his problem. He’d only thought about himself. Finding his fated mate had never been about love for him. He’d rarely considered how his mate would feel because all that had mattered had been his life and his family.
Kitty crawled onto the bed beside him beneath the blankets. “Will you make me a vampire?”
He rolled over and gathered her into his arms, then pressed his nose into her neck. “I love you, Kitty. I love you more than I ever thought possible.” He sent her as much affection as he could through their bond to soften the impact of what he said next. “That is why my answer is no. Not yet.”
Given what he could feel through their bond, he couldn’t be certain his own desire to have her for eternity wasn’t influencing her. He didn’t want her to regret making such an irreversible decision.
Her amusement trickled into his mind as she ran one finger down his chest. “I would never regret choosing to be with you.”
He closed his eyes. “You do not know how long I’ve been searching for you, Kitty. Our mating is new and exciting now, but you might not feel the same way after a few years. You’re still young.”
She sighed. “I suppose.”
He could feel her annoyance but chose not to comment on it. She had her shop, her family, and Alyssa. Too much to give up so easily.
He flattened her warm palm against his cold cheek. “I love you.”
She kissed his neck. “I will never tire of hearing that.”
His body eagerly responded to her touch and her sharp, fruity scent. “Then I will say it every day.”
She nibbled his shoulder. “I like that idea”—she rasped her tongue over his collarbone—“as long as we also do this every day.”
The combination of her scent, her tentative explorations of his body, and the furious rush of her arousal through their connection made his cock throb. He uttered a rumbling growl and tackled her to the bed.