20. Chapter 20

20

Chapter 20

Soren

I 'm striding down the corridor toward Mia's cell, a worn copy of "Sense and Sensibility" clutched in my hand. The weight of the book is comforting, but it does little to settle the unease churning in my gut.

What the fuck are you doing, Daire?

This isn't protocol. It's not even close to protocol.

I try to rationalize my actions as I walk. It's just a book. A simple gesture to keep our most valuable asset mentally stimulated. That's all. Nothing more.

But deep down, I know that's a lie.

The truth is, I can't stop thinking about her. The way her eyes light up when she laughs, even after months of captivity. The subtle curve of her lips when she's trying not to smile at one of my dry comments. The intoxicating scent of her blood…

I shake my head, forcing those thoughts away. I'm an ancient vampire, for fuck's sake. I've outlived countless human lifetimes. I shouldn't be this affected by one witch.

And yet, here I am, standing outside her cell like a nervous schoolboy.

I raise my hand to knock, then hesitate. Doubt creeps in. What if she rejects the gift? What if this only serves to remind her of her captivity, of the fact that I'm her jailer? God knows I've done that enough in these past months. Months in which I've felt as much a prisoner here as she is.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. I knock on the door.

"Yes?" she calls out.

I enter Mia's cell, the book held casually at my side. Her scent hits me immediately – that intoxicating blend of electricity and nectar. I force myself to breathe evenly, maintaining my composure.

"Good evening, Mia," I say coolly.

Mia's eyes widen slightly as she takes me in. She's curled up on her bed, a blanket draped over her legs. Her hair is slightly messy, as if she's just woken up.

"Soren," she says, surprise evident in her tone. "I wasn't expecting you."

I nod, acknowledging her statement. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

She arches an eyebrow, a hint of her usual sarcasm creeping into her voice. "Oh yes, my social calendar is just bursting at the seams these days."

I feel the corner of my mouth twitch, fighting back a smile. Her wit, even in captivity, is oddly refreshing.

"I brought you something," I say, holding up the book. "I thought you might appreciate some new reading material."

Mia's eyes flick to the book, then back to my face. The wariness in her expression slowly gives way to curiosity. She uncurls from her position, sitting up straighter.

"Sense and Sensibility?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"You told me you liked Jane Austen but hadn't read this yet."

"I did?" She looks bewildered.

"When I first started taking you to the bay," I remind her. I move closer, offering her the book. Our fingers brush as she reaches for it, sending a tingle over my skin.

"But that was months ago." She looks down at the embossed cover. It's a first edition from my private library. "How on earth did you remember that?"

"I remember everything about you, Mia," I say impulsively.

This earns me a small, genuine smile – a rarity that sends an unexpected warmth through my chest.

Which is a mistake.

"It's my job," I add. "You are my responsibility."

Something shifts in her expression that could be disappointment, but I'm sure I'm imagining it.

I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as Mia flips through the pages of the book. Her eyes light up with genuine interest, and I find myself oddly pleased by her reaction.

"Have you always enjoyed the classics?" I ask.

Mia looks up, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "Since high school. We often had them as set works. I loved being taken back to a time when people were…gentler. There was an innocence to them, don't you think?"

I nod. "It was, indeed, a gentler time. Although, they had their share of trouble, too."

She regards me for a moment. "Oh. Right. You were probably there."

I incline my head.

"Just how old are you, anyway?" She tilts her head. "Or is that a rude question to ask a vampire?"

I chuckle without realizing it. "No, it's not rude. Many of us don't think that far back, though."

"Why? Because it's painful?" Her expression is earnest.

"Sometimes," I acknowledge. "Most of us have felt loss in our lifetimes."

"You've lost loved ones?"

I nod.

"Family?"

I nod once more.

"Lovers?" Her questions are growing increasingly personal, and I can't understand why I haven't put a stop to this.

"Yes, Mia. I've lost lovers. Wives. I saw the children of my mortal life age and die."

"Oh." Her eyes are wide. "I'm so sorry."

I shrug. "It's part of our world. I needed to experience life fully, but eventually, it became too much. So I did what many others do and turned away from forming lasting connections."

"That's…that's really sad, Soren." Her brow furrows. "But can't you…you know, ‘make' other vampires?"

I don't answer for a while, a thousand memories swirling in my head. "There are those who become makers, yes. It's how I was created, after all." I think of Maxwell and the unyielding hold he has over me. "I don't believe I would be a good maker."

"Why not?" Her persistence is almost charming. It's also heading into dangerous territory.

"It's a big responsibility. One not to be entered into lightly. Unlike reading a book," I deftly change the subject.

She doesn't press further, and we fall into an easy discussion about literature, touching on everything from the Bront?s to modern fantasy. Mia's knowledge is vast, and her opinions well- formed. I find myself engrossed in the conversation, my usual guard slipping away.

It strikes me how long it's been since I've had a conversation like this. Decades, perhaps even centuries. I've kept myself isolated for so long, avoiding meaningful interactions with humans and even my own kind. The ease with which we talk is unsettling. And yet, I can't bring myself to end it.

"You know," Mia says, a hint of amusement in her voice, "for a bloodsucker, you're surprisingly well-read."

I raise an eyebrow. "Did you expect me to be some sort of literary philistine?"

She laughs, the sound warming something inside me. "No, I suppose not. It's just…unexpected."

I find myself laughing along with her. "Well, I've had a lot of time to catch up on my reading list. There's not much else to do around here."

The joke slips out before I can stop it, and for a moment, I tense. But Mia's smile only grows wider.

"I bet," she says, shaking her head. "Though I have to say, your taste in books is much better than your taste in career choices."

I lean forward, curious about Mia's life before all this. "What about you? What did you do before…well, before you came here?"

Mia's eyes grow distant, a small smile playing on her lips. "I was an event planner, believe it or not. Mostly big events that need pyrotechnics."

"Really?" I can't hide my surprise. "I would have thought…"

"That all witches spend their days brewing potions and casting spells?" She arches an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes.

I chuckle, caught out. "I suppose that was rather narrow-minded of me."

Mia shrugs, her smile turning wistful. "Magic was always a part of my life, but it wasn't everything. I love bringing joy to people on their special days." She pauses, then continues softly, "There was this one wedding…it was supposed to be outdoors, but a freak storm hit. The bride was in tears, thinking her day was ruined."

I listen, fascinated by the way Mia's eyes light up as she tells the story.

"So, I did something I'd never done before. I cast a weather manipulation spell – a big one. It took everything I had, but I managed to create a bubble of clear skies right over the venue. The storm raged all around, but inside our little haven, it was perfect."

As Mia speaks, I feel a growing sense of admiration. Her power, her compassion, her willingness to push herself to help others – it's all so…human. And yet, so much more. There's nothing evil about this woman. I don't care what Lucien or Maxwell have told me.

She doesn't belong here.

The warmth in my chest expands, and I'm struck by a sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her hand.

I clench my fist instead, forcing the feeling down. No matter how much my feelings may have been changing, the fact remains that I'm powerless to defy Maxwell's command.

I lean against the wall, observing Mia as she flips through the pages of "Sense and Sensibility." There's something different about her today, a subtle shift in her demeanor that I can't quite place. It's been nagging at me for a while now, but I've been dismissing it as my imagination.

Her eyes dart up to meet mine, and for a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of…something. An emotion she's trying to conceal. It's there in the slight tightening around her eyes, the almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders.

"Find anything interesting?" I ask, keeping my tone casual.

Mia shrugs, her fingers tracing the edges of the book. "It's all interesting. I'd forgotten how much I love Austen's wit."

I nod, watching her closely. There it is again – that fleeting expression, gone before I can decipher it. Is it fear? Anger? Or something else entirely?

"You seem…different today," I say, unable to stop myself.

She stiffens slightly, then forces a smile. "Different, how?"

I search for the right words, not wanting to alarm her. "I'm not sure. Just…different."

Mia laughs, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, captivity does strange things to a person, I suppose."

I wince internally at her words, guilt gnawing at me. But there's more to it than that, I'm sure of it. Something has changed, but I can't put my finger on what.

I realize with a start that I've been in Mia's cell far longer than intended. The easy flow of our conversation has lulled me into a false sense of comfort, and I'm playing with fire.

"I should go," I say abruptly, pushing myself off the wall. "I've taken up too much of your time already."

Mia's expression shifts. "Oh," she says, her voice soft. "I suppose you have other duties to attend to."

I nod. The air between us feels charged with a tension I can't quite define.

"Thank you for the book," Mia adds, her fingers tracing the spine gently. "It was…kind of you."

"You're welcome," I reply, my voice sounding strangely rough to my own ears. I clear my throat. "I hope you enjoy it."

I move toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. As I reach for the handle, I glance back at Mia. She's still watching me, her green eyes inscrutable.

"Goodnight, Mia," I say, my hand resting on the door.

"Goodnight, Soren," she responds softly.

I hesitate for a moment, feeling as though I should say something more. But what? What could I possibly say to make this situation any less complicated?

Instead, I nod once more and step out of the cell, closing the door behind me. As I walk down the corridor, I can't shake the feeling that I'm leaving something important unfinished.