“Never,” I say, and he nods in approval, his expression quickly turning serious again.
Dr. Lennox clears her throat. “That was eight weeks ago,” she says. “Which puts you well within the expected timeline. But…”
“But what?” Aerix stands up so suddenly that I flinch, his words so sharp that I’m afraid he’s about to whip out his dagger and threaten—or kill—Dr. Lennox with it.
Although, who am I kidding? If Aerix wants to hurt someone, he doesn’t need a weapon to do it. He’s deadly enough as it is.
The doctor swallows, as if she’s having the same thoughts as me. “In every instance when a pregnant woman is turned into a vampire, her body rejects the baby when the transformation is complete.” Confused wonder returns to her voice, and Aerix begins to pace throughout the room, as if he’s trying to make sense of what she’s telling us. “We’ve conducted experiments with this very thing throughout the years, and the woman’s body will reject the baby during the transformation every single time. No exceptions.”
Aerix stops pacing and stares at Dr. Lennox, his expression dangerously blank. “Leave,” he commands, his voice edged with a quiet, icy fury that makes the temperature in the room drop several more degrees.
She swallows hard, her eyes darting nervously between the two of us. “Your Highness?—”
“Leave.Now.”His tone brooks no argument, carrying the full weight of his royal authority. “You will speak of this to no one. If even a whisper of what you’ve discovered here reaches another soul, I will personally ensure that your death is neither quick nor merciful.”
She bows her head slightly. “Of course, Your Highness. You have my word,” she says, and in a flash, she grabs her things and retreats to the door, leaving Aerix and me alone.
He stands like a statue by the window, his profile sharp against the moonlight streaming through the glass. The silence is suffocating, pressing down on me until I feel like I might shatter under its weight.
Is he angry? Disgusted? Terrified?
All three?
Maybe he doesn’t know what he feels. After all, I don’t know what I feel, other than numb from shock. It’s entirely possible that he’s experiencing the same.
Still, I have to saysomething.If I don’t, I’m going to explode from the anxiety of it all.
“Aerix.” My voice breaks on his name. “Say something. Please.”
Slowly, he turns to face me, the unreadable look on his face making my heart stutter. Fear grips my chest tighter, cold and sharp, and I brace myself, sure he’s about to unleash anger or disgust. Or worse—regret.
Instead, he strides toward me, swift and purposeful, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss unlike anything he’s ever given me. It’s intense—Aerix is always intense—but this time it’s softer, somehow impossibly gentle. It’s like he’s afraid he might hurt me from even the lightest touch.
My surprise melts away, replaced by a surge of relief so powerful it brings tears to my eyes.
When he pulls back, his eyes shine with a depth of wonder that leaves me breathless.
“You’re incredible,” he says, his voice thick with awe. “A goddess. My salvation. A miracle created by my venom and blood.”
“Aerix.” I tremble under the intensity of his stare, unable to fully comprehend what’s happening. “Aren’t you angry? Or scared? Or…” I trail off, my thoughts so jumbled I can barely form words.
His fingers trace my jaw, his smile so soft it makes my heart ache.
“Scared? Yes. Angry? Never,” he says, and the worry tightening my chest immediately loosens. “You’ve given me something impossible. This child—ourchild—is proof that you’re more extraordinary than even I imagined.” His hand moves to rest over my still-flat stomach, his touch impossibly tender, as if I’m the most fragile thing in the universe. “You’re a miracle, Zoey. And I swear on my immortal life that I’ll worship you and protect you with everything I have. Because you are my life now—bothof you. And I promise you that I will never, ever, let anything or anyone take you from me.”
ZOEY
Four days later,I’m sitting with my oil paints, bringing the fruit displayed on the table to life on the canvas before me.
Was it Monet or Manet who painted fruits like this? Maybe both? I don’t remember. But with my vampire vision and coordination, the painting comes together in a way none of mine did when I was human. Every brush stroke is more precise, the entire scene layered and alive.
No wonder Aerix felt so compelled to improve the painting I worked on of the fountain in the courtyard all those weeks ago.
But my focus keeps drifting. Because in two days, I’ll be free. My isolation period in the tower will be complete, and I’ll be welcomed into the Night Court as Aerix’s vampire consort.
Except… I still won’t be one of them. Not with this baby growing in my stomach. I’ll be a freak of nature. One that shouldn’t exist.
As far as I’m aware, Aerix has told no one. But there’s going to be a point where we can’t hide it anymore. And then what will happen?
