“What does that mean?” Laurel Rose could barely concentrate on the conversation. Her stomach was churning and her head was throbbing again. She was very afraid she was going to embarrass herself and get sick all over the bed. She swallowed hard and inhaled deeply through her nose.

  “It means that you are now a vampire, like me. Your life is tied to mine. You need blood to live. You will be able to eat or drink small amounts of food once your body adjusts, but you no longer need it to survive. You are immortal, but you can still be killed. Prolonged exposure to sunlight, a stake through the heart, or beheading will kill you. Sunlight is lost to you forever and you are now a creature of the night.”

  “You converted me?” Her voice shook as badly as her hand as she brought it up to wipe her sweat-covered face.

  “I saved you,” he corrected.

  She was going to be ill any minute. She desperately wanted to concentrate on what he was saying, but the sickness welling up in her was making that virtually impossible. She was fascinated by what he’d done and had so many questions, but they would have to wait.

  She rolled over onto her side and tried to throw back the covers. Stefan stalked to the bed and placed his hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down. “What are you doing? You need to stay in bed.”

  “Sick,” she managed to whisper. His eyes widened in understanding and he plucked her out of the bed and carried her down the hall. The movement made the churning in her stomach even worse. “Hurry,” she moaned.

  She all but jumped out of his arms when they reached the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she was violently ill. Normally, she would have been embarrassed to tears, but quite frankly, she was just too darn sick to care.

  The floor was icy beneath her bare legs, chilling her skin as she knelt, leaning against the cool porcelain between waves of sickness. Stefan sat behind her, his strong arms locked around her, supporting her when she needed it and comforting her the rest of the time.

  He left her long enough to dampen a cloth in tepid water and he used it to wipe the sweat from her face. Time lost all meaning as Laurel Rose was sick for hour upon hour. It was as if her body was ridding itself of everything. And it was. She realized that Stefan was murmuring in her ear, telling her that her body was purging itself of human waste. Her body was changing, becoming stronger.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, she finally finished. She desperately wanted to go back to bed, but she didn’t have the strength to move. As if he knew exactly what she needed, Stefan sat her on the small bathroom countertop and helped her brush her teeth and rinse her mouth. Then he ran some warm water over the washcloth and wiped it over her face and shoulders.

  Her muddled mind cleared long enough for her to realize she was naked. It was funny that she hadn’t even noticed before now. But there was nothing sensual in his actions. Every movement was filled with purpose. Finishing quickly, he scooped her into his arms, carried her back to the bedroom and tucked her into bed.

  “Sleep. We’ll talk more when you wake tomorrow evening.” Stefan stood and she was very afraid he was going to leave.

  “Stay.” She held out her hand to him. He stared at it for so long that she dropped it and turned her head away. The man had held her for hours while she’d been sick. Perhaps he didn’t want to stay with her any longer. Burying her face in the pillow, she waited to hear his receding footsteps.

  Instead, he swore sharply. She heard the shuffling of clothing being removed, then the mattress sank next to her and she rolled up against his massive body. His hands were firm but incredibly gentle as he gathered her into his arms and settled her head on his chest. With the strong beat of his heart lulling her, she drifted off to sleep.

  • • •

  The sun had sunk only moments before, but Stefan knew Laurel Rose was awake. They’d slept the day away, locked in each other’s arms. Cristofor had checked on them just before he’d left at dawn, making sure the drapes were closed tight. He’d even gone so far as to tack and extra blanket over the window. His brother had assured him that they would all be back later in the evening to check on him and Laurel Rose.

  Stefan knew that they were all still worried about him. The expressions on his brothers’ faces when their wives had shown up last night had been priceless. Both men had glowered and the looks on their faces would have made the bravest of men quiver in fear, but not so their wives.

  Both Johanna and Delight had just scowled right back at them. Johanna had tapped her foot again the floor, crossed her arms over her chest, and frowned at her very large husband. “You really didn’t think you could keep us away, did you?” she asked. Stefan had almost laughed at his poor brothers as they struggled with their desire to keep their wives safe and their pleasure over their wives’ wish to be there with them.

  But Stefan understood his brothers all too well now. He had a woman of his own and nothing was more important than her safety and happiness. Both couples were still learning to strike a balance between the men’s instinct to protect and the women’s need to be independent. Stefan just hoped that he and Laurel Rose would have years to argue about such things. His brothers were very lucky men. And he was putting off the inevitable.

  “How do you feel?” He kept his voice level, burying all emotion.

  She shifted in his arms and her nose rubbed against the crisp hairs on his chest. She’d thrown one of her legs over his thighs while they’d slept and she shifted it ever so slightly, moving it closer to his groin. His cock swelled and hardened immediately, and he silently cursed his unruly body. Now was not the time or the place for this, but he had little control around this woman.

  He took a deep breath and realized his mistake immediately as he breathed in her sweet scent. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable, and the soft mound of her breast pressed against his side, the hardened tip poking into him. He wanted to roll her onto her back, mount her, and fuck her slow and soft, then hard and fast, making her come over and over until she screamed out his name.

  Stefan shuddered and clamped his hand over her thigh to keep her leg still. Now that they were both awake, it was time to talk. He savored the feeling of her body snuggled close to his, filing away every single detail so that he could take it out and relive it in the dark nights to come if these were the last moments they shared together. Tightening his arm around her, he held her close to his beating heart. He was loath to release her, but he was a Dalakis and a Dalakis did not shirk his duty.

  He longed to kiss her, to taste her lips one more time. Instead, he gently lifted her head off his chest and rolled out of bed in one quick motion. It was easier this way. He heard the shuffling of covers behind him, sensed her confusion, but he ignored it as he hauled on his jeans and boots. Snagging his shirt off the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, he shrugged it on but didn’t bother to button it as he turned toward her.

  Laurel Rose sat against the headboard with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her face was still pale, but she looked much better than she had the night before. That relieved Stefan. The conversion had been hard on her. The knot in his gut loosened slightly as he realized she was on the road to recovery.

  Her fingers clenched the blankets that covered her. “I’m feeling much better.” A slight blush tinged her cheeks as she looked away. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

  Stefan raked his hands through his hair and stared at her in disbelief. She was embarrassed because she’d been sick in front of him? Why wasn’t she yelling at him, demanding explanations? He’d expected her anger and confusion, not embarrassment.

  Two strides brought him back to her side, and he sat down on the bed next to her. Cupping her beloved face in his hands, he tipped it up so that she was forced to look at him. “You have nothing to apologize for. It is my fault that you were ill.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks, and he marveled as always at the softness of her skin. “What do you remember?”

  Laurel Rose shrugged and tried to pull away, but he held her tight, not allowing her to turn from him. “I remember everything. Or at least, I think I do.” Her brows furrowed and he smoothed out the lines on her forehead with his thumb. “I remember the kidnapping and what came after. I remember knowing I was dying and that you brought me back to life.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I’m like you now, aren’t I? I have a vague memory of you telling me that. I was so sick it was hard to concentrate on anything.”

  “Yes.” Stefan would not flinch from the truth. She was his true mate, his woman, his only love, and he would not lie to her to make his life easier or to soothe his own conscience. “I converted you without your permission. You were dying and I made the choice for you.”

  Her hands came up to cover his where they cupped her cheeks. Stefan closed his eyes against the pain that her simple action caused him. Her goodness shamed him. Here he was telling her that he’d taken the choice of her life away from her and she was comforting him. Her touch was unbearable, reminding him of the monster he truly was to sentence a beautiful soul like hers to the darkness, to tether her life to his for all eternity.

  Stefan pulled away from her and her hands fell back against the mattress. Drawing a deep breath, he closed his mind to everything but his duty. She was his now and he would protect her, even from himself if necessary. She needed time and space to think and to decide how she wanted her life to proceed from this moment forward. He’d taken one choice from her, and now it was her turn to decide both their fates.

  Standing, he stared down at the woman gazing up at him from beneath the mound of blankets. She was so much smaller than him and incredibly delicate compared to his massive size and strength. Yet she had never once flinched from him or backed down. She possessed a core of steel, a strength of will that constantly amazed him.

  “You will find that your psychic powers and your physical senses have increased. The only reason you have not been bombarded with the sights and sounds is because you possess a natural barrier already, one that you’ve built over the years to protect yourself. If you practice strengthening it daily, you will be fine. Your sight, your hearing, and your physical strength have all increased. You will be faster and stronger than you can even imagine.” He paused, waiting for her to say something or to ask a question, but she remained silent.

  He began to pace the confines of the small room. He paused in front of her dresser and absently picked up her hairbrush and traced his fingers over the bristles. His cock flexed and strained against the front of his jeans as sweet memories bombarded him. Swearing under his breath, he tossed it down and swung back toward her.

  “No one will bother you again. The threat to you and your land is gone.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at her, daring her to argue with him. “I have money. You will never want for anything.” It was his right to take care of her.

  “I don’t need your money.” She glared at him, her dark blue eyes blazing, her voice tight with anger.

  He growled, furious at himself for broaching the subject so crudely and at her for her refusal to allow him to provide for her. “I will teach you the extent of your new powers, teach you how to survive.”

  “Don’t put yourself out. I can take care of myself.” She turned away from him, pulling the covers closer around her body and staring at the wall.

  The pain in his chest was almost overwhelming. It seemed that she didn’t need him for anything. Didn’t want him for anything. He had to get out before he made a fool of himself by falling to his knees and begging her to let him stay in her life.

  He strode toward the door. “If you need anything. Anything at all.” His voice threatened to break and he swallowed back the rising emotion. The farther away he got from Laurel Rose, the harder it became for him to breathe.

  Pausing in the doorway, he leaned against the frame for support, but he didn’t look back. “All you have to do is think of me and I will be there for you.”

  Not waiting for an answer, he pounded down the stairs and burst out into the night. Ripping the clothing from his body, he shifted as he leapt from the back steps. By the time he landed, the man was gone, replaced by a large wolf who tipped back his head and released his sorrowful cry into the night.

  And then he ran. Racing through the woods, he sought some relief from the pain that burned in his soul.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Laurel Rose stared at the wall, unable to believe what she was hearing. Stefan stood there, his expression unreadable and his eyes colder than she’d ever seen them. He was blocking his thoughts from her, making it impossible for her to pick up even the slightest inkling of what he was truly feeling. Shivering, she wrapped the blankets tighter around her body. He was offering her money. Money! She didn’t need money. She needed him to wrap his arms around her and tell her that he cared for her, that they would be together forever. Instead, he was offering to teach her how to survive.

  She heard herself replying to him. “Don’t put yourself out. I can take care of myself.”

  She felt cold inside. Cold and dead. She almost wished he’d let her die. But that wasn’t what had happened and Laurel Rose knew she would do what she’d always done.

  She would survive.

  His parting words washed over her. Laurel Rose bit her lip to keep from begging him not to leave. She felt as if her soul was shriveling up inside her. She only prayed that he left before she broke down totally. Swallowing back her tears, she said nothing, hoping he’d make a clean break of it and leave quickly.

  She would let Stefan go without a scene, without any drama. He’d already given her so much in their short time together. He’d taught her that she was beautiful and had shown her that lovemaking could be breathtaking and special between two people who cared for each other. She didn’t doubt that he felt some affection for her. His every action had shown her that, and she trusted her own instincts.

  Yes, he’d talked of her being his only love and of her being the only woman for him, but that was far different than expecting to spend eternity with someone. The man had come to her rescue and saved her life. She would not ask him for more. If he wanted to leave, all she could do was make it easy for him to do so.

  The pounding of his footsteps were still echoing in the house when the back door slammed open and he was gone. There was now an emptiness, a void in her home and in her life that would never be filled.

  Curling into a tight ball of misery, Laurel Rose finally let loose her tears. She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed, releasing all the emotions swamping her. She cried for what she’d been through, for what she’d had and lost, and for what she’d hoped for. She cried until her eyes were swollen, her head was pounding, and she was almost sick with grief.

  Gasping for breath, she rubbed her hands over her face. She had to stop. She hauled herself out of bed and down the hall. The blanket she’d wrapped around herself dragged on the floor behind her as she stumbled into the bathroom.

  The light was harsh, almost blinding her, and she switched it off almost as quickly as she’d turned it on. It was then that she discovered she didn’t need it anyway. Even in the dark she could see everything. It was a strange sensation to be able to see herself perfectly in the mirror even though the room was unlit. Her eyes were puffy and red and she’d bitten her lip so hard she’d drawn blood. Her hair was a tangled and tousled mess and her skin was pale. But that wasn’t what drew her attention. Her eyes were fastened on her right cheek, and she reached out and flicked on the light again. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  She blinked and squinted, waiting patiently until her eyes adjusted. Then she stared at the woman in the mirror. The hand reflected in the glass was shaking as she reached up to touch her face. Her scar was all but gone. Only the faintest trace of it remained. It was all but invisible to the naked eye. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

  On a hunch, she dropped the blanket and stared down at her leg. Goose bumps raised on the smooth white skin as she poked at her thigh. The scars on her leg had all but disappeared. It was almost disconcerting after living with them for all these years to find them gone. It was as if a defining part of herself no longer existed.

  Laurel Rose turned away from the mirror and stepped toward the bathtub. Her leg moved easily, even though she’d automatically adjusted for its weakness. Taking a deep breath, she slowly lifted her left leg, bending it at the knee so that all her weight was on her right one. Instead of crumpling to the floor, she stood tall and strong. Holding her breath, she bent and hopped forward. She landed firmly, her leg still strong and steady.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. By changing her, Stefan had given her back the full use of her body. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she flicked them away. She’d cried enough for now.

  She stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, allowing the hot spray to wash away all the sweat and tears from her skin. When she’d washed and scrubbed her hair and body, she rinsed and turned off the water. She grabbed a towel and dried herself off before wrapping it around herself. Then she grabbed another one and wound it around her wet hair.

  Now that she was calmer, she began to think more rationally. The conversation with Stefan replayed over and over in her head. Laurel Rose methodically began to examine their relationship from the first moment they’d met. Stefan was a very protective and possessive man. From the very beginning, he’d put her well-being ahead of his own. It was as natural to him as breathing. He’d done it without thought, totally by instinct.

  She toweled off her wet hair, squeezing the excess water from it before pulling her comb through the long, damp strands. She concentrated on trying to recall exactly what he’d said to her that first night. She remembered him telling her that she was his destiny, the only woman he would ever love. But it was her choice as to how they would live.

  Choice. That was the key word. That’s what Stefan had emphasized. He felt guilty about taking the choice away from her. Her brows furrowed as she followed her train of thought. She knew she was on the right track—she felt it right to her very bones.