“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to touch his forearm. It was cold to the touch, and I felt a little shiver go through him when my fingertips lingered on his skin.
“It was a long time ago,” he said, his eyes dropping closed as he took a deep breath.
“Well, thank you for taking care of me.”
“I’m your maker,” he said, like it didn’t mean anything. “I’m responsible for you.”
I remembered Amy saying Viktor was like her dad, but it didn’t feel like that to me. I was embarrassed that he’d seen me at my worst, and then worse than my worst. I remembered, at the start of the summer, being embarrassed that he might have seen my ugly underwear while moving my things. Now, that seemed like the silly concerns of a little girl. Now, he’d seen me beg and rave with bloodlust, offer him my body and my life for one more taste. He’d seen me attack a bag of blood like a rabid animal and cry when I tore into it and it spilled. He’d seen me lick blood off my fingers, my hair, the floor.
And he still looked at me with gentleness, compassion, and an ache in his eyes that made my heart fold in on itself, like he took on my pain and felt it magnified. I knew it wasn’t fair, but I’d liked seeing myself as Viktor did. I’d liked that he admired me, that he liked me. And yes, I felt like a selfish, shallow person for that, because I had Alarick, but I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t always felt… Something… For Viktor.
I pressed my palms to my thighs, resisting the urge to reach for the blood. It still called to me, but I didn’t scramble for it and grovel like an animal when it was gone. “I’m sure it can’t be easy to see someone begging like a junkie,” I said. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, sinking onto the bed beside me. “If anything, it’s my fault.”
“It’s not.” Now it was my turn to avoid his gaze. “What you and Svana did for me… I appreciate it. You saved my life. And I know it must suck to see a friend go through something like this.”
“It is harder when it’s a friend,” Viktor admitted, his fingers lightly brushing over my back. “I hate to see you suffering. But I knew if I let you have what you wanted, it would make it even worse.”
“Yeah,” I said with an awkward laugh. “You must think I’m disgusting now.”
To my surprise, Viktor let out a low chuckle. “Why would I think that, Timberlyn? If you didn’t think I was disgusting even when you were human, why would I think that about you now, when you’re just like me?”
“Because,” I whispered. “You saw me act like that.”
“I felt for you,” he said. “I was never disgusted by it. I know what hunger is like.”
“Great,” I said. “I think I’d rather have disgust than pity.”
I started to stand, but Viktor’s hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me back. “Timberlyn,” he said. “It’s okay to accept someone’s sympathy. It doesn’t mean I pity you. I don’t look down on you for what happened. I admire you for making the choice you did, for asking us to keep you here and keep people safe from you. I respect you for the decisions you’ve made since you started school here. And I don’t just respect you. I… I like you.”
I sat frozen as he angled his body toward mine, sliding a hand along my shoulder, under my hair. “I… Me, too,” I said. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
“I don’t mean as a friend,” he said, his lavender eyes smoldering with desire as he leaned closer.
I didn’t move. His lids lowered, and he drew me forward, his gentle hand cradling the back of my neck. His mouth met mine, his lips soft as a whisper. It had been so long since I felt anything but hunger, that nothing else existed for a moment. His lips were so soft, like moth wings slowly stroking the sensitive skin of my lips until a slow spiral of tingling sparkled through me like fairy dust. I swooned against him, my hands fisting his shirt, my body craving the contact though his was nothing like Alarick’s frantic, passionate kiss.
I jerked back, only realizing I’d kissed him back when I’d already done it.
“Viktor,” I said, pressing my fingertips to my mouth and eyeing him warily. “I’m still with Alarick. You know that.”
A frown knitted his brow, and he turned away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, suddenly desperate not to make him angry, not to make him leave. He and Svana were the only human contact—the only contact, anyway—that I’d had in months. I’d never thought I was especially social, but after being in isolation alone most of that time, never able to leave, only seeing them a few hours a day, if that, I knew I had underestimated my need for companionship.
True, I hadn’t been myself most of that time, but they had. They’d been there for me. The thought of seeing one less person was torturous. And we’d been through something, the three of us. It had bonded us. It was like they’d gone through addiction, rehab, and recovery with me. I couldn’t forget that, even if Viktor could.
“I’m sorry,” I said when he didn’t answer. I laid my hand over his on the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t have let you do that.”
“No, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I knew you were going to,” I whispered. It was true. He hadn’t blindsided me. Not totally. He’d put his arm around me. He’d leaned in. He’d pulled
