Bound by the Blood moon

Chapter 11

"You do me the indignity of turning your gaze away, despite articulating such disrespectful remarks," he declared. The primal instincts within him stirred as fury coursed through his veins, and he found himself compelled to confront her. His anger awakened the wolf, to protect him from a perceived threat. Its presence growing stronger with each heartbeat. His muscles tensed, and a low growl escaped his lips.

She trailed off as his eyes intensified, her eyes drawn downward again. "We should sever this bond..."

A scowl marred his handsome features as he advanced upon her. She instinctively recoiled, her heel slipping on the cobbled path beneath her. In an instant, his hand reached out, securing her waist with a grip that belied his rising anger, drawing her in so intimately that their forms nearly melded. Though she struggled to extricate herself from his hold, he remained resolute. Leaning in with deliberate slowness, he inhaled the scent that emanated from her, his voice held an undertone of both warning and longing, "Do not utter such words again, Charlotte. I fear my earlier declarations have not sufficiently conveyed my sentiments—by my very soul, you belong to me. There will be no severance of our bond, unless I draw my last breath. Pray tell, do you plan to attack me in the middle of the night to be free of me?"

The sarcasm was evident in his tone. "Nay, I would never harbour such intentions," she replied. "You misconstrue my meaning. I merely meant to suggest..."

"Merely suggest what?!" he interjected with passion. "That you wish for liberty from our connection? Alas, my dear, I must inform you that disentangling yourself from me shall prove to be more arduous than you envision." With a sudden intensity, he released her, pushing her away as if he could not bear to be near her in that moment.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she uttered a fervent apology. "I am most regretful, truly. I simply found myself at a loss for words. I drank from you and sensed a shift in your affections—a truth you cannot deny. Pray, how might we continue if you regard what I am with such disdain? Honestly, I cannot conceive of living amongst your kind, forever vigilant. Would you not flourish more joyfully alongside someone of your own kind?"

He let out a derisive snort, his voice laced with historical contempt. "We are no vampires, Charlotte. Let us not forget who ignited this dreadful conflict."

She was silent. Her attention riveted to the unmistakable reality that he neither dismissed nor confirmed her bold accusation regarding his feelings. He had, more than once, clearly indicated that she was never of his choosing. Therefore, why did he clutch so fiercely to the concept of their union? It was plain to her that he harboured no intention of aiding her quest, yet she resolved to devise a means of unravelling their bond.

Leo strode furiously towards the carriage, his anger overwhelming. Lilias, with commendable grace, pretended she had heard nothing and fixed her gaze upon the floor. He listened as Charlotte suffocated her sobs. The sound twisted within him, stirring an ache in his heart. Again, he faltered, error compounding upon error—how peculiar it was that such challenges followed the forging of a mate bond. Yet perhaps, once they fully committed to one another, things between them might find some semblance of peace—though he clung to doubts.

She was undeniably extraordinary: her beauty, her quick wit, and the spirited resilience with which she shaped her destiny captivated him. Yet still, her vampiric nature filled him with trepidation. He had seen the suffering and ruin wrought upon the lands of his kin, as if a plague had descended.

Might she be right? Would their mutual release from this bond spare them further agony? The prospect of parting with her tugged at him, leaving him wrestling with a heart-wrenching dilemma—could he truly let her slip from his grasp?