A Fragile Connection

AYA

^PRESENT DAY^

His icy blue eyes bore into mine. His large hands tenderly caressed my face. I leaned into his soothing touch, my hands clutching his shoulders for support.

My body was still humming with pleasure, my legs felt like they were made of jelly, and my heart had stopped beating. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it wasn’t so heavy.

I could feel my emotions swirling around—I could see them reflected in Alexander’s eyes: guilt, sadness, joy, lust. I didn’t even know what I wanted to feel.

But there was a glimmer of hope too. Alexander was completely focused on me, his arm wrapped around my waist, pressing me against his solid chest. His other hand gently brushed the hair out of my eyes.

“Your sisters are at peace now,” he whispered. “They’re watching over you.”

“You don’t believe in that,” I retorted.

He gave me a small, knowing smile. “But you do. And if I did, I would kneel down and beg them for forgiveness.”

He wiped away the bloody tears still staining my cheeks. “Forgiveness?” I echoed. “You weren’t the one who killed them.”

“I didn’t protect them after promising you I would. I should never have left you alone. You were vulnerable, and so were they.”

I could feel a fresh wave of tears welling up inside me. With each word, Alexander was slowly reclaiming pieces of my heart.

“I blamed you for so long,” I confessed.

“You were right to do so. You were still learning to control your thirst. I was your maker—I was responsible, not you. Never you.”

“No,” I disagreed, my hands wandering up his broad shoulders to lock around his neck, pulling myself closer to him.

I could feel his immediate response, a small hiss escaping his lips, his muscles tensing, his arm tightening around me. I could feel him, thick and hard, pressing gently against my stomach.

“I was the one who lost control. I was the one who killed them,” I insisted.

He leaned down to nuzzle his nose against mine. His lips brushed past my cheek, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I had to suppress a moan.

His effect on me, even after all these decades, hadn’t changed. If anything, it felt stronger. Like we’d been through hell and back, and somehow, I was back in his arms.

Like I was where I belonged and, finally, I fit in again. “It took so long just to feel all right after I left the manor. I blamed you. But I can’t make you the villain just to appease my guilt.”

“I am the villain,” he murmured, his fingers digging into my skin as if trying to anchor me to him, despite his words.

My laugh was hoarse. “No,” I shook my head. “There was happiness with you, Alexander. I cursed you for so long.” I sighed heavily, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over again.

“I blamed you for destroying us. I was so ready to love you for the rest of my life. I gave you everything I had, I gave you the best of me, and we still weren’t strong enough to hold onto each other. I loved you. I really loved you.”

I lifted my hand to his cheek. His sharp intake of breath and the depth in his eyes stole another piece of my heart.

“You hurt me, but I didn’t see that I hurt you too. I didn’t know to blame myself. I didn’t see that I was the one who tore us apart.”

“Aya—”

“No. It’s the truth. I can see that now. I can see that I hurt you as much as you hurt me. I’m sorry, Alex. I’m sorry I gave up on you.”

The brief flash of crimson in his eyes was the only sign of emotion on his face. I could feel his body tense against mine, his fingers digging into my hips.

The wind swept through the mountains, carrying with it the sweet scent of mountain thyme and the sound of an eagle swooping for its prey.

“I used to watch you,” he confessed. “I couldn’t help it. When I caught your scent in the halls, in my room. Aya, I almost ran to you every time. It took everything in me not to. I felt your hate—I felt it growing. I felt your pain and your guilt. I knew how you were feeling. When you started to cut me off from your emotions and practicing, I almost ran to beg you to stop. Our link was the last thing I had to hold onto.”

His lips brushed against my palm with a softness that was almost surprising. “I know you thought I hated you, that you were scared of me from the moment our eyes locked,” he confessed.

“I don’t think you realized that I couldn’t approach you, couldn’t risk another heartbreak. I could deal with your hatred from afar, but not up close.”

His fingers tightened around my hips, pulling me closer to him. “I felt your fleeting moments of happiness, your amusement, and it made me insanely jealous,” he admitted.

“I wanted to know who was making you smile. I wanted to be the one to bring you joy.”

“Oh, Alex,” I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, his cool lips pressing against my skin, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

He was a force to be reckoned with. Wild yet gentle. Fierce yet tender. He was a pureblood—a vampire prince—the most powerful being on earth.

And yet, he clung to me as if I were his lifeline. I had shattered him—little old me. His honesty took my breath away.

We had both been foolish, blinded by our own pain, acting out of selfishness and immaturity. We had both lashed out, both acted out.

And all the while, we were both nursing broken hearts. I held him close, pressing my body against his, running my fingers through his tousled dark hair, pulling his head down.

He held me tighter, a low rumble emanating from his chest. All I wanted was to comfort him, to protect him. This big, strong man that I had brought to his knees.

“We should keep moving,” he whispered against my skin.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat from all the words left unsaid. We still had a long journey ahead, a lot to discuss. But at least now, I felt like I knew who I was talking to.

This was my Alexander. This was his true self. This was the man who had been broken by me, by his family, but who was trying to heal.

He pulled away slowly, his hand sliding down my arm before he took my hand in his. His fingers intertwined with mine, lifting our hands so he could press a soft kiss against them. His icy gaze locked with mine.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

For once, I felt like I could read his emotions—not the other way around.

When I pushed my hope toward him, he responded with a small, tentative smile.