Forty Five

RYLEE

Watching my mate struggle with himself was painful. I could feel his desperation and fear, at the same time. The fact remained that he was trying so hard not to feed on me because he was afraid that he would hurt me.

"I can't," he croaked, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Vincent, you're hurting," I rasped, more tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I can bear it. I have to," Those words made my heart squeeze. He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his grip on my shirt tightening. Placing a hand on the back of his head, I made him rest his head on my shoulder. I started to stroke his hair as gently as I could. At this point, I was willing to do anything to make him feel better.

"You're going to be okay," I whispered, my voice trembling. I began to hum a melodious tone with my eyes squeezed shut. I thought of the blue skies. I thought of a field of yellow daffodils. I thought of the mountains. Of snow and mist.

"Rylee..."

Vincent sounded exhausted. He was no longer trembling and was