“When was the last time you drank?”
His eyes immediately darted to the untouched cup, discarded off to his side. They widened in mute horror, confirming my fears. His mouth parted to speak, but I cut him off. “Remember you promised not to keep things from me. Not anymore.”
His jaw flexed. Silence enveloped us for what felt like an eternity; throughout that time, he didn’t so much as breathe. Finally, he released a ragged breath and freed my hand to pick up the teacup, staring into its red depths as though something might lunge out at him. “About a week ago.”
My heart stopped. I had to speak past the lump rapidly forming in my throat. “Aweek?Roman, when I first moved in, you were consuming a bottle of wyne a day! You can’t survive on that!”
He bared his teeth, the table shaking beneath us. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I crossed my arms. “I know enough to know that drinking once a week is not healthy for a vampire. Why, Roman?”
Silence fell once more. He held my gaze for several breaths, then abruptly broke away to look back at his cup. His throat bobbed.
“When I… left, I was on a bender.”
“Awhat?”
His grip tightened on the cup, hard enough that the delicate ceramic burst under his fingers. Blood poured over his clenched fist, spurting between his fingers and onto the dish below. I yelped and jumped up to grab a towel from the serving cabinet behind him.
His free hand grabbed my arm, the grip tense yet gentle. “I am an alcoholic, Estrella. It started as a way to forget all the evil I was forced to commit, but it got worse. When my mother died, I drowned myself for weeks until Sorin came and dragged me out. I’ve been as sober as I can be since, only drinking what I need to stay healthy, and I always kept my consumption regulated… but I relapsed that night. That’s where I was while you were being kidnapped.”
I gaped down at him in mute horror. Horror at the anger and hatred marring his face — at himself, I realized. That anger was always directed at himself. My insides twisted, knowing he had been holding onto this guilt for nearly a month, blaming himself, eating him alive. As though he needed more to feel guilty about, like he needed to take on another’s evil and lay it across his shoulders. Wordlessly, I crawled into his lap, facing him. I wiggled my fingers into his blood-soaked fist until he released the shards. It was impossible to discern what was his blood and what was wyne, but I knew other wounds needed tending first.
“I’m sorry for my part in triggering that. I never wanted that,” I breathed, cradling his cheek in my now blood-smeared palm. He didn’t seem to mind, leaning into the contact.
“I tell you I wasn’t here to protect you because I wasdrunk,and your first thought is to apologize to me.” A harsh, broken laugh erupted from him, one that turned more guttural until he was snarling hard enough to send vibrations up my spine. Having left behind the shattered remains of his cup, his hands fisted into the fabric of my skirts.
“You aren’t responsible for what happened, Roman.”
He bared his teeth in a vicious display I’d only seen a few times, one that had my eyes widening and heart pounding. “I am completely responsible for what happened. If I had beenhere?—”
Unsure what else to do, I pressed my lips to his, letting my body convey what words couldn’t: the pain, the regret, the hurt, the helplessness against his overwhelming tidal wave of guilt and self-hatred. There was only one person I blamed for my kidnapping—well, two. Neither were the man who had done everything to rescue me time and time again.
He melted into the contact, turning into boiling liquid in my palms. He kissed like he spoke, his lips abusing mine with that same regret and anger he continued to poison himself with. His hands wrapped around me, fisting the fabric at my back, pulling me close. I wanted to drown in that heat, but I wouldn’t let myself. Not yet, at least.
Lips still swollen from his decadent violence, I pulled back and tilted my head to the side, allowing my loose hair to cascade over my shoulder in silken strands to reveal that garish bite mark his lips had reclaimed all those nights ago. “You need to feed,” I murmured breathlessly.
His face shifted from shock to anger. He leaned back. “I’m not doing that, Estrella. Those times with you were special to me; they meant something else. I won’t make you my personal blood bag.”
I bared my teeth in what I hoped was a display of aggression that matched his own and bowed my head forward until our noses touched. I twisted my fingers into his midnight curls, the other hand gripping the fabric at his collarbone. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, not anymore. I am choosing this to help you because I fucking want to, and you’re going to accept my help because we both need this,” I barked.
His eyes widened, but what I said was the truth. Taking control of my own blood, choosing to allow its power to flow to him, gave me a sense of strength and agency I hadn’t felt in a long time. And my blooddidn’t have alcohol in it like bottled wyne did. He could feed without worry. I let my head fall to the side once more.
“We’re a team, Roman. We help each other through the darkness and light.”
He searched my eyes, his softening gaze filled with vulnerability that made my heart twist into knots. Then he dipped to my neck. The feeling of his lips ghosting over my flesh made my breath hitch. “Thank you, Estrella. I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.
Then his teeth sank in, and the room filled with the sound of our breathless moans as we both took what the other gave, the world readying to fall apart around us in flaming pieces.
Chapter 41
ESTRELLA
By the time we landed in Haugor, twilight had descended, and I immediately understood why I needed to borrow warm clothes from Catina.The cold seeped into my bones, leeching away my heat, but the sight of the snow made it worth it. Soft clusters of white drifted around us like something straight out of a fantasy. I squealed, thrusting the luggage into Roman’s hands without a second thought. The delicate flakes landed in my cupped palms, and I gazed at them in wonder as they melted against my warmth. Each one was a perfectly crafted piece of art. I wondered if Raz could paint one for me.
I bent down to scoop a ball of snow into my hands. It was wet yet soft enough to hold a light, fluffy shape. It wasbeautifuland enchanting.How had I never seen this before? What else had I missed? I wanted to experience it all. I fell to my knees, tears burning at the corners of my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asked, concern lacing his voice.
