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husband he had been a vampire and he had nearly killed her when he drank too much of her blood.
    He sat up and looked at her with solemn brown eyes, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. “It’s me, Malorie, I’m no longer a vampire.”
    Ignoring his pleading words, she kept her eyes locked on him as she backed away while blindly searching for a weapon. There was something that was trying to get through her panicked thoughts but she couldn’t think with Jack sitting on her bed and staring at her. Wrapping her hand around a fire poker, she prepared to defend herself if he attacked. “That’s not possible, Jack. There is no cure for vampirism and Feryn killed you when he killed all of the vampires that night.”
    His brows drew together in a thoughtful frown but he just shook his head. “The blast threw me but it didn’t kill me.”
    “You’re a vampire, Jack,” she cried out, her grip on the poker slipping.
    “No,” he denied, shaking his head. His eyes were brilliant and clear as he looked at her and she finally realized that he didn’t reek of death, that he didn’t look like a wax corpse.
    “Oh, God,” she moaned, the weapon falling from her hand and clattering to the floor. Her legs crumbled beneath her and she followed the make-shift weapon down, unable to tear her eyes away from her dead but not-dead, vampire but no longer a vampire, husband. “How?”
    He was by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her. “It doesn’t matter because I’m here now. We can be together again.”
    “Jack,” she whispered, searching his face and wishing she knew how to handle a husband who was supposed to be dead. “I’m with Feryn now. He’s my mate.”
    He scowled at her words, “But I’m your husband.”
    “And you died,” she reminded him. “Twice.”
    “None of that matters now.” As he spoke, his eyes dropped to her breasts and she realized how flimsy her robe was. “I refuse to lose you a third time.”
    “You almost killed me, Jack,” she said, tightening the belt of her robe as she managed to stand up and take a few steps away from him. Conscious of his eyes on her, she staggered over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of sweat pants, sliding them up her naked legs. Taking a peek at him from over her shoulder, she saw how intense his expression was as he devoured her with his eyes and she was no longer sure she could trust him. Instead of taking her robe off, she grabbed a sweat shirt and pulled it on over the robe, not caring how ridiculous she looked.
    “It wasn’t me,” he protested, taking a step towards her. When she flinched, he stopped and held out his hands in supplication, “Not really. I lost the part of me that made me human, the part that knew right from wrong. But I never stopped loving you.”
    “I know,” she choked out. “It’s just if I had been anyone else I wouldn’t be here any longer. You took too much blood and I almost died.”
    “Malorie,” he cried out softly, ignoring her reserve and crossing the room. Taking her hands in his, he begged her with a look. “I never wanted to hurt you. At the time I wanted you to become a vampire.”
    She tried to tug her hands away from him but his grip was too strong and she had to remind herself that he was no longer a vampire. Cautiously, she asked, “Is that something you still want?”
    His eyes closed in agony as a shudder wracked his body. “God, no. When I was one it seemed like the most incredible thing in the world but looking back…. God, no. It was awful, Mal, just awful. I did things….”
    His words trailed off as he lost himself in dark memories and Malorie automatically reached out to comfort him, cupping his cheek in her palm. Despite the fact that he had been gone for six years, he had been her first love, her partner, her best friend, her husband. “Don’t think about it right now.”
    He pressed his face further into her hand, his expression morphing to tormented pleasure. Taking a