Original Sin (The Order of Vampires 1)

“Do you know the material?”

She paced, her feet kicking up dust and sending motes floating into the sunlight where it cut through the wood slats. “Yes! I was prepared. For once in my life, I had a shot at actually getting an A and you ruined that! How am I going to explain this?”

“If you successfully learned what you set out to learn, and you’re confident you would have passed the exam, what does the test matter? An exam cannot strip you of knowledge any more than it can provide it.”

“It matters because I can’t graduate without taking my finals!”

Her degree would be useless here. But her knowledge might have a place. She’d realize that eventually.

She dropped to the haystack, an overwhelming sense of helplessness radiating from her and calling to his protective nature.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.” Her voice tightened around her words. “My loans, my books, my time... Everything I worked towards... You just took it all away.”

He sat beside her and she didn’t lean away. Her face angled to the floor where she stared.

“But it’s still there, inside of you. Wisdom is the one thing no one can steal from you, Annalise.”

She shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

Perhaps he didn’t. But as a tear fell into her lap, a part of him wanted to understand more than he wanted his next breath. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. And in time, perhaps I can make it up to you. But right now we have more pressing matters. I need your help.”

Her eyes welled with unshed tears as she stared at him with a mix of shock and anger. “I’m not helping you.”

His jaw ticked. She could so easily infuriate him. “Tell me what you need to get past this.”

“I need to email my professor.”

“I can find paper and postage for you.”

“Paper and postage?” Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s my phone?”

“I’m afraid it didn’t make the journey.”

“Great.” She huffed out a humorless laugh. “Then let me leave so I can find one. I need to get in touch with my professor.”

There were hundreds of reasons why this small complication wouldn’t matter in a day or two, but everything about her fragile emotions told him those excuses would bring her no comfort now. Spoiling her, giving in to her request, would only bring more complications, but he couldn’t stand the sight of her tears. Each one seemed a drop of acid burning through his heart.

Defeated, he stood and reached for her hand. She eyed him suspiciously.

“Let us leave this barn and find a solution.” When she still didn’t take his offered hand, he said, “Perhaps the others know a way to reach your professor.”

The offer formed a tentative truce and she slowly placed her hand in his. The first sign of trust between them, though thinner than a silken cobweb, would be the start of an intricate masterpiece. So long as he didn’t break it.

She stood, her eyes cautiously watching him. He nudged her to turn and made a quick inspection of her dress. The cape hung sloppily over her chest and back, not properly pinned inside the apron. He tried to tuck it in for her, but she flinched away from his touch.

He sighed. Perhaps Grace and his mother could assist in this department.

She stopped speaking the moment they left the barn and he found himself distractingly curious of her thoughts. The sight of her in Amish attire had an erotic effect on him, which made his own conversation difficult, so he accepted the silence.

His father had been disappointed to learn that he’d yet to complete the bond. His soul, and his mate, remained in danger until the bond was complete. His behavior over the past twenty-four hours had been dangerously spontaneous.

Even now, his thoughts fired off with sparks shooting in every which direction. His teeth ached. His eyes burned. His skin prickled. His gut hungered. And his blood throbbed, gathering and swelling in his veins, awakening desires that left him hard and longing for relief.

He could feel his rational self slipping away. The beast inside crept closer to the surface with every passing minute, putting his mate in proximate danger, but he could not rush this. His instincts commanded he jump to the end, but his heart demanded patience. The internal war ripped him to shreds, filled him with screams he dared not utter, and took him to a mental place that seemed wholly indulgent and cruel.

But he kept control and silence won in the end.

He’d fed from her two more times on the journey home, suppressing his appetite enough to keep his speed and ensure their connection. So long as her blood remained in his system, he’d have no trouble tracking her—should she try to escape. But his gluttony had cost her.

Her weakness, which beat at him, was his first priority. Although an unholy side of himself beckoned he complete the bonding and seal their fate, he needed to see that she had a proper meal. Then he would see to her concerns about the exam.