Chapter 13
Choisir
BASTIEN
Bringing Claire to this place was infinitely stupid.
My mate was bathing across the pool, naked, and here I was, trying to pretend she wasn’t.
My mind kept running circles around every interaction with her.
Every touch. Every look. I’d been winning the fight against my urges until she’d asked for help untying her sash, and I immediately dropped to my knees for her.
It had taken every modicum of restraint not to push up the hem of that little nightgown and taste her.
Had she told me to make her come while I was on my knees in front of her, I would’ve forsaken every vow I’d made to myself and the laws that prevented vampires from fucking their sanguine partners.
Parting her with my tongue and stroking her pleasure.
Licking her sweetness until I found the exact right way to make her scream.
Sliding a finger inside her just to hear her choke out Your Grace while she writhed on my hand.
But I had other problems besides temptation. My bloodlust was becoming harder to ignore. Especially when she begged for it. I’d never been thirstier in my life.
By the gods, I was ravenous.
I filled a cup and poured water over my hair, rinsing the soap and wishing my thirst for her could be ignored.
While my kind could move in the sunlight, it drained our power and weakened us.
Restoring it with human blood was the only way to become strong again.
If Claire were anyone else, I would’ve already satiated my need.
But she wasn’t anyone else. I had to figure out how to avoid drinking from her, but I was running out of time.
I couldn’t wait to ask Imogen for ideas.
So here I was, giving my mate a chance to change her mind about the feeding while red-hot bloodlust dripped down my throat and the desire to claim every inch of her body surged in my veins.
The bloodstone pulsed with each slow beat of her heart, letting me know she was relaxed. No trace of fear hung in the air. I resisted the urge to turn around and look at her. To see her long, wet hair clinging to damp skin. To watch soap bubbles slide between her breasts.
Pounding my fist against the tile, I gritted my teeth and forced myself to think straight.
Despite our mate bond, I didn’t trust her, and she clearly felt the same way.
As much as she tried to hide it, there was animosity in her eyes.
And that animosity fueled my suspicions about her.
If she blamed me for her father’s death and the hardships in her life, then that left room for hate to become action.
I leaned against the pool’s edge, bracing my forearms on the tile, and hung my head, cursing the gods for their sick sense of humor.
Why had they chosen this woman to be my mate?
Why couldn’t I have been left to live alone?
Wasn’t I doing enough for my family and for the land I swore to protect? One would think so.
While I struggled with the unfairness of my situation, a cold finger of dread wrapped itself around my heart, unsettling me.
My vampiric senses heightened, and I listened for any movement around the bathhouse or within it but found nothing.
Nothing but this building sense of dread.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. But what?
Grabbing my bloodstone, I saw the truth: the light had gone out.
I turned it back and forth to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
But no. It was no trick. The light had gone out for the first time in twenty-five years.
That would only happen if… I turned, searching for Claire, but didn’t see her figure amongst the steam.
Had she…?
I didn’t allow myself to finish the thought.
I dove underwater, swimming hard, when I saw her floating beneath the surface, unmoving.
This was my fault. I was too distracted.
Too in my own head to notice her struggling.
I got my arms around her and clutched her to my chest as I climbed out of the pool.
Water dripped from our naked bodies. She was limp, and that scared me more than anything ever had.
“Miss Donadieu! Claire, can you hear me?”
Her head lolled to the side, but she didn’t answer.
I laid her down to assess her. Blue lips.
Chest still. If I didn’t breathe air into her lungs and restart her heart, she was dead.
But sealing my lips to hers would solidify the mate bond, and there would be no turning back.
I’d never be able to deny her. I’d be at her whim.
Her mercy. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I had to save her, but there were serious repercussions if I did.
For the longest second of my life, I considered letting her go. If I did nothing, I’d be free of her. Of the temptation. Of the problem she presented. Of all the ways she could ruin the life I’d built for myself. Water beaded down my chin, dripping onto her pale cheeks like tears.
My heart twisted with anguish, and I knew I couldn’t let her die.
She was a complication in my life, but I couldn’t be responsible for her death.
I had to save her. Lacing my fingers together, I pressed them to her breastbone, compressing her chest and forcing her heart to beat.
After, I pinched her nose and lowered my lips to hers, hovering over their perfect bow shape for just a moment—just long enough to feel the weight of this decision—before carefully tilting her chin back and fitting my lips to hers.
The tingle of magick buzzed between us, and my whole world came to a halt. Then slowly, my world began rotating around her, like she was the earth and I was her moon. Some primal urge tore through me. Something I couldn’t fight. Mine. She was mine.
And she needed to live.
I gave her two full breaths before going back to compressions.
“Come on, Claire. Wake up. You have to wake up.”
I pressed my lips to hers again and again, blowing life into her lungs. On my sixth attempt, when I was starting to lose hope that I wasn’t going to save her, my bloodstone flickered back to life.
I stopped compressions, and Claire coughed up mouthfuls of water. I eased her onto her side so she didn’t choke. Pulling wet strands of her hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear. When the worst of her coughing subsided, I rolled her onto her back, and her eyes fluttered open.
“What happened?” she asked blearily.
This time, I chose you.
She didn’t need to know that. No. She could never know what I’d done. “You drowned,” I said in a shaky voice. Hovering over her. Protectively caging her body with mine. “But you’re alright now.”
“Drowned?” she repeated slowly. She sounded confused and could barely keep her eyes open.
But still, she touched the bloodstone dangling between us.
The one that was beating in time with her heart.
I held my breath for fear she’d figure out what it meant.
She rubbed a thumb over the stone, regarding it carefully, before her eyes shifted back to mine.
Warm and brown and absolutely captivating.
“Why did you save me?” she asked. “I thought you hated me for not giving you a choice.”
Her question struck at the heart of my struggle.
A struggle I had to keep to myself. I pushed another strand of damp hair from her face.
My fingers trailed down the side of her cheek until they grazed the edge of her lips.
The urge to press mine against hers again rose inside me, but I pushed it back down.
“You’re irritating enough to be interesting.
It would’ve been foolish of me to let you die. ”
She tried to laugh but ended up coughing up more water. I watched her carefully, making sure she didn’t choke. When the fit passed, Claire wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and met my gaze. Holding it with so much curiosity, I wished I could read her mind.
“So, according to you, I’m irritating, interesting, brave, stubborn, and insightful.”
I lifted a brow, unable to control the smile that quirked up one side of my mouth. “Are you making a list of the things I’ve called you?”
“Maybe.”
What an interesting creature.
She was leaving off twice as beautiful as anyone I’d ever met. But, maybe she was keeping that to herself. Gods knew I was keeping plenty more descriptions of her behind my teeth. Sexy. Delicate. Strong-willed. Tantalizing. Stop it, Bastien.
“I’m so tired,” she said.
“Then sleep,” I replied. “Trust that I’ll take care of you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and they didn’t reopen. I double-checked that her heart was beating and that she was breathing, then sat back on my heels, trying to catch my breath.
I’d been pushing this brave young woman too hard.
She hadn’t seen the world outside the convent, and I had to treat her more gently, no matter how suspicious I was, because this couldn’t happen again.
Especially now that I’d sealed our bond.
I’d never be able to live with myself if she died in my care.
Whether I liked it or not, Claire was under my protection, which meant getting her into dry clothes and back to the inn.
Trying to be as respectful as possible, I eased a hand behind her head and lifted it enough to slip the cotton nightgown on.
It took longer than I thought it would to get her arms through the shift and pull it down around her body.
Claire’s limp arms and legs weren’t helping the process.
And neither was my bloodlust. Every time my fingers touched one of her throbbing veins, my mouth salivated, and I had to force myself to focus on her health.
Watching carefully for signs that her heart might give out again.
After easing her arms into each sleeve of the robe, I tied the sash in a knot, then fastened the cloak around her shoulders.
Once she was dressed, I dashed to the other side of the pool to dress myself, then returned as quickly as I could to her side.
Sliding one arm under her knees, I hoisted her up against my chest. Reveling in the pink tint that had settled in her cheeks.
She was alive, and right now, that’s all that mattered.
Her warm body curled against me as we left the bathhouse. Her damp hair soaking into my shirt. Her cheek resting against my chest. It felt good to carry her. It felt right to be this close to her. Nothing had changed. And yet, everything had.
When I opened the door to the inn, we drew stares from my guard, but no one dared say a word as I walked past them and carried Claire up to our room. I laid her carefully on the mattress, then sat in the armchair by the fireplace, turning it to face the bed.
The room was dark, save for the firelight, but I had no trouble seeing her face or hearing her breaths.
Grabbing a book and thumbing it open, I contented myself with reading while she slept, but I found myself stealing glances over the top of the book, unable to tear my attention away from her for more than a few seconds.
She was restless in the sheets. Tossing and turning. Kicking the covers off. Then there was the little noises she made. Soft moans and sighs. Then I heard my name slip between her lips.
“Bastien. No, don’t stop.”
Something inside me roared with pleasure.
I wanted to know exactly what I was doing in her dream that she didn’t want me to stop.
I gritted my teeth and banished the thought from my head.
This was how I was going to spend the next year of my life.
Having her close but needing to keep her at arm’s length.
It was for the best.
There was a sharp knock at the door, and Claire stirred.
I extracted my pocket watch and checked the time, cursing when I realized I’d forgotten my meeting.
I set the book down and crept toward the door, not wanting to wake her.
Cracking it open, I found Natalia waiting for me with her arms crossed.
She opened her mouth, likely to chastise me for being late, and I raised a finger to my lips. I slipped from the room, loath as I was to leave Claire for more than a second, and stepped into the hallway.
“We’ll be staying an extra night,” I said in a voice that allowed no argument. “Inform Shreesa that I’m very sorry, but I must speak with her tomorrow.”
Natalia stuck her hand on her hip and flipped her long braid off her shoulder. “You were adamant that we hurry back to Roselyn. Now, you wish to linger? And since when do you cancel meetings?”
“Since when have you questioned my orders?”
“Since you started acting strange,” she snapped. Her glare shifted to the door, then back to me. “And by the gods, Uncle, you look like hell.” I waved her off, but Natalia narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t eaten. Have you?”
“Natalia—”
“Does this have something to do with the orphan girl and your morality? Because I’ll bleed the girl into a goblet and force-feed you if I have to.”
“You will not touch Claire,” I growled. Each word laced with the promise of violence. This was the first time since Natalia joined me at Chateau Rose that I’d threatened her, and the shock was plain on her face.
“How familiar of you to use her given name, Your Grace.”
I ignored her needling. “You have your orders.”
Frustrated, I retreated inside the room and leaned against the door. Watching Claire as she twisted in the sheets. This woman was going to be the death of me.