If anything was going to give him the impetus to let Sera go before things became more intense between them, it was that.
He had tried to deny that any harm would befall her if he kept her, but he had been with her for barely an hour and already she had almost suffered the wrath of Snow’s bloodlust.
“Antoine, you’re shaking,” she whispered and he realised that he was. “Come and sit down.”
He was too tired to refuse and allowed her to lead him to the bed. Her hands grasped his shoulders and she forced him to sit on the edge of the king-sized mattress.
“Is your hand still bleeding?”
He didn’t know. He looked down at it. Yes, it was. The scratches on the back of his other hand were healing thanks to his saliva but he had left the wounds on his palm from the broken glass unattended. She muttered something and knelt before him. He could only sit and stare as she took his hand in both of hers, palm upwards, and began to lick the cuts. Heat chased away the cold numbness coursing through his veins. Awareness of each careful sweep of her tongue was only made more intense by the feelings that flowed from her into him as his blood in her body opened a deeper connection between them.
She was worried.
She wanted to take care of him.
She cared about him.
Antoine wasn’t sure of the right reaction for that revelation. Should he be happy that she had some sort of feelings for him? It would have pleased him once, centuries ago. He would have easily fallen into her arms and passed blissful years with her, uncaring of where the future led them, living for the moment.
He wasn’t that man anymore.
“Sera.” He took his hand away from her and she looked up at him, her green eyes round and edged with the barest thread of crimson. The thoughts swimming in his mind hurt him. If they hurt him, they would surely wound her. “This cannot happen.”
“Why?” she said, neither demanding nor yielding. Exactly the cool courage he had expected from her.
“Because.”
She scoffed. “That is a lousy answer.”
It was. He shrugged. What else was he supposed to say?
“You saw my brother.” The way her face blanched confirmed that she had witnessed and understood the full horror of his brother’s reaction and subsequent breakdown. “That same darkness flows in these veins.”
He turned his palm back towards her, revealing the blood seeping from the cuts.
“My brother needs constant care. As constant as the bloodlust that seeks to rule him. My brother needs me.”
“So, because your brother needs you, you don’t get to be with anyone? You can’t need anyone else, or have anyone else need you?”
He didn’t really have a response to that one that she wouldn’t be able to just bat aside and refuse to believe.
“Your brother relies on others. Your brother is not alone, detaching himself from the world. He has his demons, and he fights them, and he overcomes them... on his own. Restraining him didn’t free him from whatever dark need had seized him. He freed himself when that woman came in. He was freeing himself when he was looking at me.” Sera stood and sighed. “I could see it even if you couldn’t. That woman was right. Snow wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“You cannot know that!” Antoine shot to his feet, his voice harsh in the quiet room. Sera didn’t back away. She stood toe-to-toe with him. Challenging him as always.
“What is it that you fear, Antoine?” she said coolly, holding his gaze and searching it, looking deep into his soul. There was no use trying to close it off to her. She had the key now and could unlock it at will. She had found her way past his defences. “Are you afraid that you’ll lose control like that?”
“I am afraid I will kill you.” He paced away from her and picked up the twisted remains of the two canisters. He dumped them into the bin in the bathroom. The scent of blood followed him, strong and intoxicating. Antoine pressed his hands against the edge of the black counter surrounding the sink, ignoring the pain in his left hand, and drew in a deep breath.
Sera appeared in the doorway reflected in the mirror. She sighed, stepped up behind him, and ran her hands over his shoulders. Devil, just that simple motion of her hands felt too good for him to resist. It told him to give up the fight and give in to her, seduced him into admitting that he liked the feel of her hands on him and the way it relaxed and comforted him. It had been too long since he had felt like this—cared about by someone other than Snow, close to someone and no longer alone in his quest to keep moving forward through his life.
The past centuries had felt like that, a constant march onwards, his focus solely on his brother so he didn’t have to look too closely at himself. Only Snow had kept him moving forward and it was all he could do to escape his past. He refused to look back but now Sera had him balanced on the edge of doing just that, and surrendering to her demand to share his pain with her and embrace her and the fact that he didn’t have to be alone if he didn’t want to be. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to look back now without breaking down under the weight of it all. It felt as though each year that had passed without him acknowledging what had happened had done nothing to lessen the pain he would feel if he allowed those memories to surface in his mind and his heart. It felt as though each year had only increased it, and he was afraid that it would crush him now, would strip him of his strength and leave him broken. He didn’t want to feel weak and vulnerable. Not again.