"Breakfast is served," I toss the man at Eleanor's feet.

She smiled. "Good. Thank you. First bite? You got him after all,"

I shake my head. "You two eat until you've had your fill."

She gives me a small from, looking down at him. "He's still warm," she whispers, her fangs emerge. They glisten as she sinks them into his neck. I watch her.

How I wish she was sinking her teeth into my neck so viciously. Oh well, it's good to see her eat.

"Go on Liam," I nod. "Eleanor is a fast eater."

Blood drips down Eleanor's elegant throat into the curve of her breasts. Red looks good on her.

"Alastair," she calls to me, calling me over with a crook of her fingers.

I bend down, wiping her mouth gently. "That's a cashmere shirt you're wearing do you know that?" I murmur, holding her chin in my hands.

She swats me away half-heartedly. She ducks down taking her fill once more. This time she emerges, crashing her lips into mine, filling my mouth with warmth of fresh human blood. I swallow, the sweetness of her lips overpowering the metal taste blood holds.

Such a bitter thing.

"Don't starve yourself either," she wipes her mouth. She looks away from me.

I have an inkling my Eleanor actually likes me much more than she'd let on.

I grab her face, gently holding her still, bring our lips with an inch of each other. She's stunning. After a moment, she leans in, trying to close the gap.

I keep her still. Her brows furrow in frustration.

A smile pulls at the corner of my lips. She wants me. But desire has never been the issue between my Eleanor and I.

"I want to sink my fangs into your neck," I mumble against her lips. "Not because drinking from you would fill me. I just want to feel you writhe with ecstasy when my curse overtakes you."

Her gaze burns into mine. She's not one to back down.

"No snappy witticisms? Not even a jab or sarcastic quip?" I bait.

"I don't know what do around you," she whispers back. "I think...I have to think you're bad for me."

I am. Positively dreadful. In fact, if you made a line chart of her life it would go down the year she met me and plunge straight into hell.

Still...

"And yet..." she looks away. "I can't seem to deny you. You're too charming, that's what is. Too pretty."

Pretty. I smile.

She looks away. "You know people call each other baby now. Instead of darling, dearest, beloved. My love." She trails off.

"Would like me to call you baby instead?"

Eleanor smiled softly. "No."

My darling Eleanor. Every moment beside her is worth living.

"Kiss me,"

I don't oblige. Her feet leave the ground, wrapping around my waist. Her forehead presses against mine.

"Marry me," I respond at last.

Her lips turn up. "One thing at a time, Alastair."

I chuckle, our lips finally meeting, bliss. Her tongue slips into my mouth, her hands tangling in my hair, her breasts pushed against my chest.

She pulled back, looking over my face. "You shouldn't look at me like that."

"I can't help it."

She nuzzles her nose against mine. Such an intimate thing for my Eleanor.

"You win," she sighs. "I can't deny you anymore. You've captured me, Alastair."

My stomach turns. Is this...happiness? My head is spinning.

"You've won me. You've won my heart," she strokes my face. "All of it."

Her words are earnest, begrudging. Eleanor is a woman of strength. Her independence, her aversion to real love is how she has survived.

Her dark eyes dart between mine as if looking for something to doubt. Her love has been tucked away between the safety of words of pages for her entire life.

She places it in my hand, gingerly.

She silently asks me if I will betray it.

I tuck a curl behind her hair. In the face of her affection I'm silenced. I'd always assumed it was unattainable.

"I love you," I manage to say. She eases herself from my hold turning around.

"When I turned...those years wandering in the moonlight," she paused. "I missed you more than anything."