He followed her out of the shower. Stalked right after her as she walked—backward—out of the bathroom. She wanted to keep her eyes on him.
“You didn’t want to burn again.” His words were deep and dark and he watched her with a gaze still filled with lust.
She tightened her grip on the towel. She clearly remembered the not-wanting-to-burn part. “My injuries weren’t that bad. I just got better.” That was the reason the flames had faded away. Not because of-of any change. I don’t want to be a vampire. Being a phoenix was bad enough. Becoming a full-time blood drinker? No, thank you.
“Stir the fire,” he rasped.
Sabine blinked.
“Stir the fire.”
She lifted her hands. Thought of the flames. The white-hot fire.
Nothing happened.
Her hand fisted.
“You can’t,” Ryder said grimly. “I told you . . . you changed.”
Her tongue slid over the edge of her teeth. They were normal. Not fangs. Sabine shook her head.
“You asked me to help you,” he said. His hands were clenched at his sides. His body nude, powerful. Sexy.
Sabine forced her gaze to meet his. She had asked him to help her. She remembered her desperate plea. She’d begged for his help, even as she knew that . . .
I’m dying again.
“I go to hell,” she whispered this confession as she stared into his eyes. “The fire is so hot. It burns my flesh away. Pulls up some beast that’s buried inside of me. The fire won’t let me go. It surrounds me, it—”
He stalked forward and caught her arms. “You never have to feel that fire again. You’ll never die again. Never age. Never get sick.”
Because I’m a vampire? She’d just traded one monster for another. Her heart raced. But . . . “I don’t have fangs.” Her teeth were just normal.
“They’ll grow, sharpen, when you need to feed.”
She forced herself to keep holding his gaze. “I don’t need to feed.” The last thing she wanted to do was sink her teeth into someone’s throat. She’d nipped him during sex but that had just been rough foreplay.
Right?
“Maybe you still have enough of my blood in you. When humans change, the first things they want to do are feed and f**k.”
She flinched. Um, yes, she’d sure had the f**king part down. She’d never felt a need so intense. It had taken her over. Dominated her every cell. She’d needed him, quite simply, more than she’d needed breath right then.
Was that really me? Or did those doctors do something to me? They’d injected her so many times with who the hell knew what when she’d been held captive.
“You were never human, so it only stands to reason that your body wouldn’t react the same way to the change.” His fingers were rubbing small circles on her arms. Did he realize that? She did. She liked it. Found the caress soothing. “It took three exchanges to convert you,” he said as a frown pulled his brows low. “With a human, it just takes one.”
Faint suspicion hummed in her mind. “You were trying to change me, from the beginning.” Don’t be true. Don’t be. Her heart wasn’t just racing. It was hurting. I trusted him. Even with my fear, I thought he was helping me.
His expression was blank, but his eyes were full of need. “The first time I gave you my blood, I wanted to keep you alive. That was my only goal. I never meant to take so much from you.”
Ah, and she heard the guilt there. It would probably always be there.
“I thought that if I’d just given you more, you would have transformed. Wyatt stopped me, and I figured the change didn’t occur because you didn’t get enough of my blood.”
But then he’d given more blood to her later. She pulled away from him. “You were trying to change me.” It had been deliberate. The blood drinking. The seduction. He’d pulled her in. Gotten her to trust him.
Why hadn’t he told her that she’d change? Why hadn’t he just told her what was happening?
“You didn’t want to be a phoenix,” he reminded her, voice flat. “I gave you what you wanted. If you hadn’t been hurt, if you hadn’t been lying there, dying right in front of me, I wouldn’t have gone for the transformation. Dammit, believe me!
“I couldn’t let you die again. You didn’t want death, and in that moment, Sabine, I would have traded anything—even the last bit of my black soul—to make sure that you didn’t burn again.”
Her mouth was dry.
“I just wanted to save you,” he rasped. “I haven’t saved many in my life.”