Chapter 427: Just You 2
Zagan reached up and traced Penelope’s jawline with his thumb before the rest of his fingers wound into her hair, and then he hovered there with her face angled up toward his.
"You are cold," she whispered, closing her eyes as he rubbed his thumb along her cheek and marveled at her and this feeling he now felt sparking wildly in his chest.
"And you are... so warm," he whispered back, swallowing as the urge to taste her rose from somewhere deep in his belly, spreading that same warmth from her all over like the bloom of life took a mere touch.
"Are you thirsty?" She swallowed, her heart trembling in her chest at the intensity with which he was gazing at her.
Was he going to want her blood now? She thought she was prepared for it—that was the deal they had made, after all—but now that he was so close to her and she was facing the threat of that puncture from his fangs without the anesthetic benefit of being compelled, she wasn’t so sure.
"Yes, I am thirsty. But not like that," he said, looking back and forth at her deep brown eyes that glimmered with fear. "Not like that."
"Then... what?" She asked, glancing down at his lips.
"I do not know. I have never..." he said, still holding her face angled up toward him. "I have never... felt this way. But I think..." he squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to get control over his thoughts and his words—control that was never once a problem in his entire existence until now.
Penelope reached up and placed her hand over his that was entwined in her hair, bringing his attention back to her. "What is it?" She asked, overthrowing her own fear with the realization that this could be it—this could be her role. Somehow she was the one who was able to bring about feelings in him, and maybe she should just not question it. This is where their paths had led them... somehow, unbelievably, she was drawn to this vampire.
Zagan still seemed unsure about how to answer or proceed, so she nuzzled into his hand. Just that action alone—her warm, delicate face that turned into his hand as if it could possibly find comfort there, something he had also never experienced before—had his bottom lip drop open in astonishment.
"Do you feel this, too, Penelope?" He whispered.
"I do. I feel it," she nodded, and with what confidence that gave him, he allowed his hand to trace the length of her neck as if committing its touch to memory.
"Zagan?" She asked, needing to speak his name to see if he would become the terrifying monster that she had seen before or not. Could she trust him? The question was preposterous, and yet... everything in her that reached for him felt that he would protect her rather than harm her. It went against all logic.
"Hm?" He hummed, allowing his gaze to return to hers, locking in that invisible traverse with her where there was so much more that could be communicated without words.
"I am... afraid," she whispered, her eyebrows cleaving and silent tears sliding down her face with the admission.
It was as if the ghost of a heart wanted to stutter to life in Zagan’s chest as he mimicked her expression, gently wiping one of her tears with his thumb. "I will not hurt you. I vow it," he said, shocked by his own words that spoke of a truth he was only beginning to understand. But it was true nonetheless. He was sure of that much.
Penelope nodded, dropping her gaze and allowing more tears to escape. It was a relief to hear him say that he would not hurt her, but it also did not remove the fear that wanted to make its way out through her tears it seemed.
"I let them go for you—all of the alyko. That is the only reason. Because you were the one who asked," he told her, but for some reason this admission did not bring those precious eyes of hers back to him.
Instead Penelope began crying in earnest, and he dropped his hand from where it had been given liberty to glide along her skin, now allowing it to fall instead to his side. He did not know how to comfort her even though that ghost in his chest ached to. He thought what he said would bring her comfort, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
"I am sorry," he mumbled.
Penelope shook her head, covering her face with her hands before wiping the tears away. She didn’t know what to say.
The vampire sighed, returning his hands to his pockets and allowing his vision to wander away from the most interesting thing he had ever come to know. He looked up at the storybook blue sky above the lotus and the brilliant colors that imitated and maybe even surpassed the real world. What Nedra had done for him with this portal was remarkable. But he was not seeing it. Instead, he was seeing the overflowing emotion in Penelope’s eyes. How would he ever be able to part from her now? He felt that part of himself was tethered to her. It was undeniable, and it was truly terrifying.
"I am afraid, too," he said so quietly that the wind threatened to steal the words from the air.
Penelope sniffed and looked up at him, wiping more tears away. "You are?" She asked. Had he truly just said those words? He was afraid?
Zagan nodded once and placed a hand over his chest. "Here," he said, patting the spot. "It aches. It aches when I think of you, when you are near, and now... seeing you cry it aches badly. It has never done that before."
Penelope walked forward hesitantly before placing her hand over his.
"I am the Great Star of Africa, aren’t I?" She asked, chuckling a bit when she did.
His eyebrows pinched together when he felt her hand over his, and he nodded. "It is you. It is just you."
