Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Rhea
The halls were quiet when I gave up pretending I could sleep. It wasn't the peaceful kind of quiet, this was the kind that pressed in from every side, thick enough to make me aware of every heartbeat, every shallow breath especially the ones that weren't mine.

I told myself I was only walking to clear my head. I told myself that I was frustrated with Alaric ignoring every of my ploy for him to break, but deep down, I knew it was more than that. Way more.

I told myself, time and time again before I slipped out of my room, that I was going to go up to the balcony, get some air, before going back to bed. But my feet had a mind of their own, carrying me toward the one place I knew he’d be.

His study.

Of course, the lights were still on. Alaric was perched behind his desk, half shrouded in candlelight, his coat discarded, and shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. The white fabric stretched over his forearms, and I hated how easily that sight could make my pulse skip.

Come to think of it, I wasn't sure I'd seen him in a shirt that wasn't white. And that was ironic given the fact that he was a literal blood sucker.

I hovered by the doorway for a beat, tugging at the hem of the shirt I’d thrown on. His shirt. I hadn’t meant to wear it. I’d just found it draped over a chair earlier, soft and absurdly comfortable. That’s what I told myself anyway, that it was comfort, not some stupid craving for his scent still clinging to the fabric.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He didn’t look up immediately, and I pushed away the nagging voice that told me he was still playing hard to get.

“Not the way you do,” he said, voice smooth, distracted.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes. “Forgot vampires and rest are on awkward terms.”

That earned me the faintest ghost of a smirk, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re awake late.”

“I could say the same.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and turned a page. The flicker of the candlelight painted his features in gold and shadow. I caught myself staring too long, especially around the sharp lines of his jaw, and the quiet authority in his every movement.

“You really need better lighting in here.”
I forced myself to move, stepping into the room like I owned it. “ It’s like the haunted section of a library.”

“Better lighting isn’t exactly my priority.” he huffed.

“Clearly.” I brushed past his desk, pretending to look at the books lining the shelves, pretending I wasn’t fully aware of his gaze following me. Or maybe I imagined it.

“You’re quiet,” I said after a moment. “More than usual.”

“Am I?” came his response.

“Yeah.” I nodded once. “Makes me wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

A wave of silence settled between us after that. It was quiet, but I would be a damned liar if I told myself that I couldn't feel the electricity crackling in the air, and between us. He finally looked up, and the air between us shifted.

“You wouldn’t want to know,” he said quietly.

“Try me.”For a second, I thought he might actually answer, but then I reached for one of the books on his shelf, and hissed as something sharp caught my finger.

“Shit.” It was a small cut, barely a drop of blood, but the reaction it got out of him was immediate.

Alaric went completely still. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating until they swallowed the color whole. He didn’t move, but his whole body tensed like a predator catching the scent of prey.

“It’s just a cut,” I said, forcing a laugh that sounded too thin. I hated how this moment reminded me of the woman back at the office, but I shoved the memory to the deepest part of my mind, before throwing it away.

“Rhea.” His voice dropped, rougher now. “Put your hand down.”

“It’s fine….” I looked at the bead of crimson on my fingertip, then at him.

“Now.” he didn't let me finish.

I didn’t move. I couldn't, and maybe I should have. Maybe the sane thing to do was to back away, but there was something in the way he looked at me. That sharp, dangerous restraint straining to hold itself together, that made my pulse race for an entirely different reason.

“You look like you’re about to lose it,” I said softly. “Am I right?”

“Don’t test me.” he growled. “just…don't.”

His control was a living thing in the room, coiled tight around every word. His eyes flicked to my hand again, then back to my face.

“You’re hungry,” I whispered. “Aren't you?”

I felt like a little child asking a question that I already knew the answer to, but there was just something different about Alaric answering me. Truthfully too.

“Always,” he murmured. “But not just for blood. At least not right now.”

The honesty in his tone made my breath catch. He took a step forward. Just one. It shouldn’t have made the world tilt the way it did, but suddenly the space between us felt like a live wire.

“Go back to bed, Rhea,” he said, low and strained. “Before I forget why I’ve been trying to behave.”

“Why?” I swallowed. “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”

“Rhea.” Goosebumps slid down my spine at the taste of my name on his lips. Something flickered across his face, shock, disbelief, and something far darker, but I didn't flinch. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do.”

“Rhea…” I could hear the desperation in his voice, I could taste it even. I glanced up, and if the way he swallows indicated anything, then I was only going to have myself to blame for whatever happened next.

“Then stop pretending,” I said, cutting him off. “You’ve been holding back since the day we met. Maybe it’s time you didn’t.”

His breath hitched. For a long second, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he crossed the distance between us until the edge of his desk brushed my hips.

His hand came up, tentative, trembling in a way I’d never seen from him, and his thumb hovered just beneath my chin.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he said, voice a rasp. “If you did, you wouldn't be anywhere near here right now.”

“Then show me.” I was pushing his buttons, and I had no idea why. The idea of being so close, this close to him was intoxicating, and I feared if I didn't get a taste of what Alaric was like without his usual self control, then I was going to lose it.

Silence stretched between us again, heavy and electric. His pupils were blown wide, the edges of his control crumbling right before my eyes.

And then, very softly, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

The sound of the word barely reached me before his mouth did. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was raw, hungry, with years, maybe centuries of restraint breaking in a heartbeat. His hand slid into my hair, the other gripping my waist, dragging me closer until the desk dug into the backs of my thighs.

I could taste danger on his tongue, the faint metallic heat of it. His lips moved against mine with desperate precision, like he’d been trying not to think about this for too long.

When he finally tore his mouth away, his forehead rested against mine, his breath ragged.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “You should leave.”

“Maybe not.” My voice was unsteady, my pulse wild. “But I did. And I'm not leaving.”

“Rhea.” He closed his eyes, exhaling through clenched teeth. “You’re going to ruin me.”

“Good.”

His laugh was low and broken, and for the first time, it didn’t sound cold. It actually felt warm, like it hadn't come from a lifeless vampire at all.

Then, before I could say anything else, he stepped back, the distance between us returning like a slap of cold air.

“Go,” he said quietly, his control snapping back into place. “Before I stop trying.”

I should’ve moved, but I didn’t. I just stood there, watching him like he was the only thing keeping the world upright.

And maybe, in that moment, he was.