Page 13 of Night Fall
“You should not be here, Mya.”
It hurt that those were his first words to her. Her temper peaked but she swallowed it back, her need for answers more important than anything else. Instead, Mya observed and waited. She studied his back, took in his blond hair, now stained with flecks of red. She could smell the scent of blood rolling off him as he moved toward the basin, and when he turned, she saw that his tunic was covered in it. Seeing her staring, Erik ripped off the material as if it had offended him in some way and it on the floor.
His anger did not scare her. This was Erik, her Erik. He had the same wide shoulders and muscled back, the same nipped waist and long legs, thick and sturdy like tree trunks. Underneath the smell of blood and dirt was his same unique scent, and in that she found comfort and courage.
She stood. Erik tensed and she came near, but she paid him no mind. Standing beside him at the basin, she inspected the front of his body, finding more blood there than anywhere else. It was undeniably human and came from someone who she was certain was no longer with this world.
She ripped a piece of her gown. Erik’s eyes fixed on her, but Mya did not meet them. Instead, she wet the piece of cloth and held it to the back of his hand, wanting to help clean him. She needed to touch him, to connect with him and bridge the distance between them somehow.
“Do not,” he warned, his voice exasperated, tired and longing, almost as if he felt the same way she did.
“Let me,” she replied. Without waiting for his response, Mya placed her hand on his chest, and he allowed her to guide him to the side so that she could begin her task. She cleaned his fingers, then around his ring, his palm, his wrist, and the back of his hand. When all that was left was white skin, she asked, “Whose blood was this?”
“That is not of your concern.”
While his words were curt, his tone lacked any force behind it.
“I did not wait five days and four nights for you, tossing and turning and wondering when you would come back home to me, and then walk all the way here for you to keep more secrets from me,” she huffed.
Erik swallowed hard. Mya forced herself to take a shaky breath before she spoke again, trying once more to temper her anger. “In our … companionship—”
“We are companions now?” Erik growled, the muscles in his arms clenching under her touch.
Mya’s hackles rose. His stubbornness got under her skin and irritated her until she both wanted to kiss him and hit him. She forced herself to grip his wrist to stop from doing either.
“What else would you like me to call us? Do we have a relationship or are you going to continue to run away from me, to hide from me like a coward? I appreciate your gifts and your attempts at protecting me, but you were supposed to come home to me!”
He glowered at her. “Do not ever call me a coward again. I did come home to you! I simply—”
“Made sure to leave before I would see you.”
He was quiet then, his arm limp in her grasp.
“Are you avoiding me?” she asked, her voice as soft as a whisper.
“I was…” he began, and then he grew silent.
She nodded, moving her attention to his other arm. “I have had a lot of time to think while you were away,” she said, laughing coldly. “All I have been doing is thinking.”
“Mya,” he croaked. She knew he was pleading with her to understand something he refused to share, but it only angered her more.
“I have thought about what happened, about what it means. I have thought about how I feel about everything. I have thought about us and the times and history we share.”
Erik was brimming, vibrating, and the tremors made her meet his silver eyes once more. They were shining so brightly, a startling, glowing silver that meant he was on the verge of falling into his vampire nature. Mya found it odd to think that it may be because of her, that she had that much power over him, that she could make him lose control simply with words, with breath, with her touch on his skin. It lit something in her, knowing his emotions may be so tied into her body that the connection they shared would start a war in his.
Then he asked, “Will you tell me what you have thought of?”
She nodded and lowered the cloth. Swallowing the thick ball of emotion in her throat, she gently placed her hands on his chest. Mya stared at the spot, relishing the warmth of his skin beneath her palms where his heartbeat strongly.
“Erik, I have been unhappy for a long time.”
“I know,” he whispered. His arms lifted as if to encircle her before falling to his sides again. She glanced at him and saw the look of defeat in his eyes. “I have tried to make you happy, but—”
“It was not for you to try. It was for me to try to understand everything in this world, to find my place in it. I have felt … jilted by life. I have lost my home, my family. I do not understand this society, and I am treated horribly for the crime of being a woman. I have no power. I cannot study or learn the things I wish to in order to create a career or name for myself.”
Mya shook her head. “Everything we are is a lie, even down to your last name. Do you know how long I have wished I could call you Erik Haraldsen?”
Erik lifted his hand to her cheek and lightly caressed her. Then he tucked her hair behind her ear and followed the wild curled strands down her back, drawing her closer and whispering into her ear, “And do you know how often I wish I could call you so many things?”
