He must have seen the fear because he didn’t move any closer, and the harsh features that shadowed his face had softened. “You do care. Good. For a second there I thought you had no life-preserving instincts to speak of.”
“You want me to be scared of you?”
“If you truly know what I am, you are.”
By telling him that I didn’t care what he was, I hoped he would elaborate, but my plan wasn’t panning out.
Alex took a seat at the edge of my bed. “I never did tell you how sorry I am about your dad. He was your world, I know.”
My stomach sank at the mention of him.
“Thanks.” I muttered.
“I know Camden isn’t where you want to be, and I’m sorry about that too.” His smile was remorseful. “This must be like a nightmare for you.”
It was a relief to know that he was at least trying to understand how I felt, but hoped he didn’t take it personally. I scooted to the side of the bed he was on to see his face better. Held in his hands was that same black silk pouch that he had when he came over a week ago.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
“There’s much I need to tell you. So much you deserve to know…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head. I remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.
Alex turned his body so that we were sitting face to face.
“Atra Mors,” he said.
Whatever it was he said, it wasn’t in English, but it sounded sexy as hell.
Metal clinked as he handed me the silk pouch. I looked questioningly into his bright green eyes, loosened the strings and turned the bag upside down to empty its contents onto the bed.

A tear instantly betrayed me at the sight. My hand clasped my mouth, fingers trembled uncontrollably. I held my stomach as it wrenched and threatened to buckle me over as I sat staring at two fire-singed, beaten pieces of metal and one unpolished, platinum band.

 

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