CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“ C ome in, Vince.”

He could hear his brother’s footsteps outside his front door. A moment later, those feet were walking up the stairs and into his bedroom. They glanced at each other then at the female lying on the bed. Still a dead person.

“How is she?”

Brayden shrugged.

“It’s been seven days. I thought it would be quicker than this?”

After taking her blood, Willow had drunk from his vein, and he’d emptied her body of all her human blood. Over the next few hours, he’d fed her more and more blood as her body began the transition.

Then she had fallen into the deep sleep. Inside she was changing, developing stronger muscles, her heart and lungs doubling in size. Hormone production was supercharged, and unused parts of her brain were triggered.

Vampires used up to five percent more of their brains than humans, which didn’t sound like a lot, but when you considered Homo sapiens currently only used ten percent, it was a big jump.

She’d sweat so much Brayden had put her in the bath and spoon-fed her electrolytes. She’d convulsed so aggressively that he’d called Kate, who had stood looking as hopeless as he’d felt.

“I just don’t know, Bray. It’s not usually this bad. I’m sorry.”

Finally it had stopped, and she’d slept. It had now been seven days with no change, her heartbeat at half the rate it should be. She was breathing awfully slow, shallow breaths.

Over the past one hundred and sixty-eight hours—more commonly known as seven days—he’d experienced a roller coaster of emotions. Regret, anger, sadness, utter anguish, shame, fear...and now he just really missed her.

“Our blood is strong, Bray; she’ll wake when she is ready.”

He wiped his face with a hand. “Or too strong.”

Vincent sat on the side of the bed and picked up Willow’s wrist, feeling her pulse. While he hated anyone touching his mate, his brother was the king. Willow was now one of his vampires.

“I do not pity you this, brother. May your vamp babies find their mates among our kind.”

He smiled. “And yours.”

Vincent shrugged. The words hung in the air, unspoken. Why Kate hadn’t yet fallen pregnant, they didn’t know. One hundred and thirty years.

“I need a shower. Can you sit with her for a few minutes?”

Vincent nodded. “Of course, go. I was going to say you stink.”

Brayden grinned, his first smile in a few days. Then he felt guilty as his eyes dropped to his lifeless mate.

“Go,” his brother said softly.

He stepped into the master bathroom and stripped off. Nikes, gray sweatpants, and his filthy white T-shirt all landed on the ground.

Brayden stood looking in the mirror at his long-drawn-out face. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he needed to shave. He rubbed at his jaw. He certainly didn’t give a shit about that right now.

Stepping under the water, he ran his hands over his body, feeling his strong broad shoulder and muscles. Down his stomach, the ripples of his abs were defined and hard. He washed between his legs, soap covering his cock and balls. It felt good.

He poured shampoo over his dark curls and scrubbed. It felt robotic. Brayden knew his body was a powerful machine desired by millions of women. Yes, he’d taken advantage of it thousands of times, yet standing here with water pouring over him, he couldn’t remember any of them.

Except his mate. Willow Moretti.

Brayden, get out here now!

His head jolted up. He turned the water off and ripped the door open. Nearly skidding on the floor, he flew into the bedroom.

“What? Fuck, what?”

Vincent covered his eyes, grimacing. Brayden shook his head. “For God’s sake, you’ve seen my penis a million times.”

“It doesn’t mean I want to keep looking at the damn thing.” He scowled, dropping his hand. “Willow. She blinked.”

“Are you sure?”

The tilted head and raised eyebrow told him his brother was, in fact, sure.

“Fine. She blinked.”

Twitch.

“Did...was that...”

Blink. Wriggle.

Vincent patted him on the shoulder and began to step away. His brother forgotten, Brayden kneeled beside the bed and sat staring at her like she was an apparition.

A finger moved. Another eye. Her lips twitched, then opened slightly.

“Willow. Baby, I’m here. Come back to me.” The words he’d repeated like a mantra for days spoken again. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Breathe.”

Suddenly, she sucked in a deep breath and began coughing.

“Here.” Brayden tipped her on her side in case fluids were caught in her throat. She wasn’t the delicate human she once was anymore, but he found himself unable to stop taking care of her.

Willow sucked in breath after breath, then finally, her eyes opened.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Stare.

Blink.

“Hey.” He wiped her hair away from her forehead.

Blink.

Er, she had her memories, right?

Blink.