that to change. He couldn’t taint her.
He had to find a way to stop her from looking at him with hunger in her beautiful dark eyes because it was growing harder for him to keep his distance from her. He had been prepared for how difficult she would be to handle at times, but he hadn’t been prepared for how difficult he would be to handle when around her. His normal control kept slipping, long-dead feelings finding life again in response to the smallest things she did. A smile. A look. It was all it took to push him to the edge. In the shower, when her eyes had traced every line of his body like a lover’s caress, he had almost lost it.
He had almost forgotten his position and hers, and how they couldn’t be further apart. They didn’t belong together. She didn’t need him, and he certainly didn’t need her.
Eventually, she would reach the mansion in Oslo and would become one of the elite of their bloodline. He would go back to the shadows.
Nothing good could come of them acting on foolish desire and nothing good could come of allowing her to weaken him like this.
Tor hardened himself to her, constructing new barriers, determined not to let her penetrate them. He could handle one small female.
“Adam was against the idea to try to turn me to their side,” she whispered before he could tell her to continue and he was thankful for it. He needed the respite from her perusal of him and time to get his rebellious emotions back under control and continue to build his barriers, locking away the softer emotions she had roused and leaving only darkness behind. “He said I would never want to help them and he was right. They tried everything…”
Her eyes met his across the room.
“They tortured me.”
Something snapped inside him and he growled. His fangs punched long from his gums, deadly daggers that wanted to feel Adam’s flesh beneath them, wanted to tear him to pieces.
“I need a moment.” Eve rushed past him into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Tor reined in his fury and walked to the closed white door. He pressed his hand against it and listened. At the first sob that broke free of her, he moved away, giving her some privacy and not wanting to intrude.
Rage boiled in his blood, burning in his heart. If they had tortured her, they would have forced her to feed in order to keep her alive. They were as much responsible for her feelings about blood and feeding as her hunter background. They had driven her to view it as something evil, something thrust upon her, another form of torture.
He looked back at the door.
Eve had endured more than he could have imagined, and she wasn’t close to telling him all of her story. He wasn’t sure she could right now, or that he had the heart to press her when she emerged from the bathroom. He would give her a moment away from the memories that clearly pained her. In time, she would find her balance again and would tell him more.
She was strong. He had never met a woman like her. She didn’t need his protection, or at least she wouldn’t if she fed, yet he couldn’t ignore the deep-seated need he felt within him. A need to protect her and guide her on her path to becoming comfortable with and accepting her new life as a vampire. He wanted to be the one to help her through her pain. He wanted to erase it for her.
He picked up his duffle bag and reminded himself that she had a sister to do that for her. A family. He wasn’t qualified for the position anyway. What did he know about healing pain? All he knew was how to dispense justice, how to deal violence and death. All he could help her with was that burning need for vengeance.
Tor set the black duffle down on the bed and unzipped it. He tugged a fresh pair of black jeans out, pulled his towel off, and put them on. The shower switched on in the bathroom and he tried his best not to imagine Eve stripping off the white robe and stepping under the water, steam swirling around her slender body.
He rifled
He had to find a way to stop her from looking at him with hunger in her beautiful dark eyes because it was growing harder for him to keep his distance from her. He had been prepared for how difficult she would be to handle at times, but he hadn’t been prepared for how difficult he would be to handle when around her. His normal control kept slipping, long-dead feelings finding life again in response to the smallest things she did. A smile. A look. It was all it took to push him to the edge. In the shower, when her eyes had traced every line of his body like a lover’s caress, he had almost lost it.
He had almost forgotten his position and hers, and how they couldn’t be further apart. They didn’t belong together. She didn’t need him, and he certainly didn’t need her.
Eventually, she would reach the mansion in Oslo and would become one of the elite of their bloodline. He would go back to the shadows.
Nothing good could come of them acting on foolish desire and nothing good could come of allowing her to weaken him like this.
Tor hardened himself to her, constructing new barriers, determined not to let her penetrate them. He could handle one small female.
“Adam was against the idea to try to turn me to their side,” she whispered before he could tell her to continue and he was thankful for it. He needed the respite from her perusal of him and time to get his rebellious emotions back under control and continue to build his barriers, locking away the softer emotions she had roused and leaving only darkness behind. “He said I would never want to help them and he was right. They tried everything…”
Her eyes met his across the room.
“They tortured me.”
Something snapped inside him and he growled. His fangs punched long from his gums, deadly daggers that wanted to feel Adam’s flesh beneath them, wanted to tear him to pieces.
“I need a moment.” Eve rushed past him into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Tor reined in his fury and walked to the closed white door. He pressed his hand against it and listened. At the first sob that broke free of her, he moved away, giving her some privacy and not wanting to intrude.
Rage boiled in his blood, burning in his heart. If they had tortured her, they would have forced her to feed in order to keep her alive. They were as much responsible for her feelings about blood and feeding as her hunter background. They had driven her to view it as something evil, something thrust upon her, another form of torture.
He looked back at the door.
Eve had endured more than he could have imagined, and she wasn’t close to telling him all of her story. He wasn’t sure she could right now, or that he had the heart to press her when she emerged from the bathroom. He would give her a moment away from the memories that clearly pained her. In time, she would find her balance again and would tell him more.
She was strong. He had never met a woman like her. She didn’t need his protection, or at least she wouldn’t if she fed, yet he couldn’t ignore the deep-seated need he felt within him. A need to protect her and guide her on her path to becoming comfortable with and accepting her new life as a vampire. He wanted to be the one to help her through her pain. He wanted to erase it for her.
He picked up his duffle bag and reminded himself that she had a sister to do that for her. A family. He wasn’t qualified for the position anyway. What did he know about healing pain? All he knew was how to dispense justice, how to deal violence and death. All he could help her with was that burning need for vengeance.
Tor set the black duffle down on the bed and unzipped it. He tugged a fresh pair of black jeans out, pulled his towel off, and put them on. The shower switched on in the bathroom and he tried his best not to imagine Eve stripping off the white robe and stepping under the water, steam swirling around her slender body.
He rifled
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