Your Dark Gospel (Complete)

Chapter Sixteen

Astarion

Astarion didn't run after Elira.

He didn't need to.

The invisible tether that existed between them was firmly in his grasp. He was beginning to recognize the difference between her feelings and his own. There was something distinct in the way she felt things, something uniquely her in a way he couldn't quite describe. The jealousy that surged down the line when she'd spotted him at the tavern had felt like a tidal wave, intent on destroying everything in its path when it washed over him. It was a miracle he'd managed to keep upright, entertaining the drow as if nothing had happened.

Her presence radiated so intensely that he didn't need to see her to know she was near. He could feel her, a blazing beacon in his awareness.

Earlier that evening, he had left her in a rage, ready to sink his fangs into anything with a pulse should he find the opportunity. Admittedly, that was a stupid thing to do, but... such was the life of a vampire.

The drow at the bar had made an easy target, offering herself up on a silver platter before he even spoke a word. She was eager, willing, begging. Hells, she was literally begging. What more could he ask for?

Yet... it turned out that the price was one he was not willing to pay. Not anymore.

His vampiric nature did not put her off—she embraced it. He only had to fuck her in return, and he was done with that. Done whoring himself out as a means to an end. It didn't help that when he'd had her, alone and ready to go, the only neck he had wanted to bite—the only body he wanted to touch—was Elira's. Perhaps he was more sentimental than he thought. She had been his first, after all.

Maybe he'd grown a little too attached.

Then she had followed them into the alley, practically frothing at the maw when she attacked the drow.

She was a madwoman.

A lunatic.

He couldn't recall a time when he'd been more turned on.

Yet tThere was another feeling hidden behind his arousal, something warm and unrecognizable, and he had absolutely no idea how to work out what it meant.

He stepped into their tent and found her kneeling on the finely woven carpets. Her face was buried in her palms, but she peeked through her freckled fingers when he entered, one bloodshot eye focusing on him in the dim light. She slowly dragged her fingers down her cheeks and neck, as if attempting to shed her own skin, leaving behind blotchy red marks.

Astarion stepped closer and tilted his head down at her. "Daddy Bhaal didn't teach his spawn the value of sharing?"

"You're not mine to share." Elira scowled, lifting her gaze to meet his. "I was simply helping a friend in need."

Something tightened in Astarion's chest.

"Is that what I am?"He reached forward and ran a finger along the sharp line of her jaw. "A friend?"

Elira squinted, her nose wrinkling in confusion. "You're not angry?"

"Darling," Astarion lowered himself gracefully onto one knee, then the other, so they were face to face. "Let me show you how furious I am."

His fingers encircled the nape of her neck, drawing her closer as he let his lips crash against hers. She stiffened in his sudden embrace, but after a few moments, he felt her muscles relax and her arms found their way around his waist, pulling him closer in return.