He had lost himself for endless hours, mesmerized by Isobel's daughter, whose spirit and vitality shone like a beacon.
A fierce longing surged within him—a burning desire to intertwine his life with hers, to become an inseparable part of her vibrant world.
Nothing would deter him from this thrilling quest; not Alaric, with his piercing, watchful eyes; not Marie, with her sly, cautionary whispers; and certainly not Isabella, whose formidable presence always cast a long shadow.
He was unwavering in his determination, ready to face any obstacle that dared stand in his way.
Alaric stared at the terrified Mrs. Higginbotham or the bite on her neck. He bit his wrist and held it out to her. "Here."
She cringed when he held out of her blood. "No."
"Drink it."
She shook her head. "No."
"My blood will heal you."
"I don't want to die."
"You won't die."
"I don't want to be a vampire."
"That's only if you die with it in your system."
"Are you going to hurt Bella?"
"I don't want to hurt any humans." He growled, frustrated. "Drink; your blood is making it hard to focus."
"What do you want?"
"A world without vampires." He ripped her off the vervain bracelet. "Now listen to me."