“Okayyy. ” I slid from his arms. “Someday you’ll need to explain that. ”
I stood, but was still woozy, and I lurched, grabbing one hand to his chest and one on my bureau to steady me.
His laugh was a low rumble in the darkness. “You must rest. ”
My fingers curled on the top of the dresser, palm sliding instinctively along the front. “Wait,” I said, deciding there was one last thing I’d share. “I need to show you something. A picture. ”
The picture. The one of my mom that I’d treasured my whole life. Old and yellowed, the paper had begun to separate at one of the corners.
I went to my desk and retrieved the gift Carden had given me. Our eyes met as I pulled it from my bookshelf. He grinned at me, obviously pleased.
But as I peeled back the false binding, I knew a flare of panic. I was showing Carden everything now. The photo. Its very existence could get me killed.
Not to mention Ronan—he’d risked much getting that picture back for me. We’d never discussed it again. If the vampires found out, he’d be dead meat.
“This is her. My mom. ” I handed him the photo. It was the ultimate show of trust. But still, I couldn’t help but plead, “You can’t tell. ”
The look he gave me put me instantly at ease. “Your secrets follow me to the grave. ”
I sighed, watching him as he studied it. I’d expected him to warm to it. Or maybe to look from her to me and back again, catching the resemblances. We had the same wide eyes. The same mouth. But instead his reaction was the last one I expected.
His eyes dimmed. He was cold, handing it back to me. He gave me a sharp nod.
What the hell?
Did he realize how much of a leap of trust this was and decide we’d gotten too close? Did he know this was completely illegal for me to have? Or worse, had he guessed that Ronan was the one who’d stolen it back for me?
But in an instant he was Carden again, leading me to my bed, tucking me in. “You must drink, my love. ” He held his wrist before my lips.
So I must’ve just imagined his reaction. It made sense—I was really out of it, like I’d been drugged. “Drink again?” I asked groggily.
“You must. Just a wee bit. Just once more. ”
I fought to keep my eyes open. “I’m too tired. ”
He rubbed his skin against my lips, and instinctively I opened my mouth. Instinctively, I suckled. I couldn’t help it—as sated as I was, my body still longed for it. He was whispering odd things to me, mesmerizing me, things I only half heard in my stupor. About how strong I was. How strong I would be.
How strong I’d need to be.
He stroked a slow hand up and down my side, and I moaned with contentment. I wanted to open my eyes to get a last peek at him for the night, but I was so tired. So full.
“You must take care, my love. Do naught that is foolish. ”
“I’m just going to bed, dumb-dumb. Do you think I even sleep recklessly?” I gave a muzzy chuckle. “Don’t go all Ronan on me, okay?”
He was silent for a second, long enough for me to hold my breath and wonder if I’d made a misstep mentioning Ronan. But then he spoke again, his tone oddly pensive. “He looks out for you, Ronan does. You believe he has your interests at heart?”
I sighed, relieved at his soothing tone, and nestled deeper in my blankets, sleep beckoning me. It was an effort to parse his question, and I shrugged drowsily.
“Annelise? Ronan. He looks out for you?”
“Yeah. Sure. ” Part of my brain cried that I should be paying more attention, that something else was being asked here. But I was so very tired, the lure of sweet sleep pulling me down and down. “I remind him of his sister. ”
I faded then and was drawn back to consciousness one last time as he tucked the sheets tightly around my shoulders. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Good-bye, sweet love. ”
Be strong? Good-bye? Why was he sounding so intense?
I wanted to ask him. I meant to ask him, but before I could form the words, I slid into unconsciousness.