Choisir (verb) to choose

Bringing Claire to this place was infinitely stupid.

My mate was bathing across the pool, naked, and here I was, trying to pretend she wasn't. I hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to control my...urges, nor had I anticipated the scent of her arousal to be so...intoxicating.

When she'd asked for help untying her sash, it had taken every modicum of restraint I had not to push up the hem of that little nightgown and taste it. Had she told me to make her come while I was on my knees in front of her, I would've done it without thought. Parting her with my tongue and stroking her pleasure. Licking her sweetness until I found the exact right way to make her scream.

This ridiculous bond between us told me that pleasuring her was my responsibility and that urge was just as strong as the one to protect her.

But I had other problems besides temptation. My bloodlust was becoming harder to ignore.

By the gods, I was so thirsty. Ravenous, even. 

I filled a cup and poured water over my hair, rinsing the soap and wishing my thirst could be as easily quenched as a human's.

After three days of riding hard in the sun without pausing to feed, I was thirstier than I'd been in some years. 

While my kind could move in the sunlight, it drained our power and weakened us. Restoring it with human blood was the only way to become strong again. If Claire were anyone else, I would've already satiated my need.

But she wasn't anyone else. She was my mate, and I needed to figure out how to make this work. I couldn't wait to ask Imogen for her ideas. I was out of time. 

So here I was, ensuring Claire had the chance to bathe, hoping it would make her more amenable to me, while red hot bloodlust dripped down my throat and the desire to claim every inch of her body surged in my veins.

The bloodstone around my neck pulsed with each slow beat of her heart, letting me know she was relaxed. No trace of fear hung in the air.

I resisted the urge to turn around and look at her. To see her long, wet hair clinging to damp skin. To watch soap bubbles slide between her breasts.

Pounding my fist against the tile, I gritted my teeth and forced myself to think straight. Despite our mate bond, I didn't trust her, and she clearly felt the same. As much as she tried to hide it, there was animosity in her eyes.

And that animosity fueled my suspicions about her.

If she blamed me for her father's death and the hardships in her life, then that left room for hate to become action.

I leaned against the pool's edge, bracing my forearms on the tile, and hung my head, cursing the gods for their sick sense of humor. Why had they chosen this woman to be my mate? Why couldn't I have been left to live alone? Wasn't I doing enough for my family and for the people being ravaged by magick and demonic forces outside our territory?

One would think so.

While I struggled with the unfairness of my situation, a cold finger of dread wrapped itself around my heart, unsettling me. My vampiric senses heightened, and I listened for any movement around the bathhouse or within it but found nothing. 

Nothing but this building sense of dread. Something was wrong. Very wrong. But what? 

My gaze snagged on the gem dangling from my neck, and I noticed the light in my bloodstone had gone out.

I held it up, turning it back and forth to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no. It was no trick. The light had gone out for the first time in twenty years.

But that would only happen if...

I turned, searching for Claire's figure in the water, but didn't see her figure amongst the steam.

Had she...?

I didn't allow myself to finish the thought. I dove underwater, swimming hard, when I saw her beneath the surface, unmoving.

Dread's cold fingers squeezed my heart until I felt sick. 

This was my fault. I was too distracted. Too in my own head to notice her struggling.

I got my arms around her and clutched her to my chest as I climbed out of the pool. Water dripping from our naked bodies. She was limp in my arms, and that scared me more than I could quite understand.

"Claire! Claire, can you hear me?"

Her head lolled to the side, bouncing off my chest, but she didn't answer.

I laid her down on the warm tile to assess her condition. Her lips were blue, and her chest was still. If I didn't breathe air into her lungs and restart her heart, she was dead.

But sealing my lips to hers would solidify the mate bond, and there would be no turning back. I'd never be able to deny her. I'd be at her whim.

Which wasn't what I wanted.

The longer I stared at her lifeless face, the more restless I became. I had to do something to save her, but there were serious repercussions if I chose that path.  

For the longest second of my life, I considered letting her go. If I did nothing, I'd be free of her. Of the temptation. Of the problem she presented. Of all the ways she could ruin the life I'd built for myself.

Water beaded down my chin and from the tips of my hair, dripping onto her pale cheeks like tears.

My heart twisted with anguish, and I knew I couldn't let her die. She was a complication in my life, but I couldn't be responsible for her death. I had to save her. 

Lacing my fingers together, I pressed them to her breastbone, compressing her chest and forcing her heart to beat. After as many as I dared, I pinched her nose and lowered my lips to hers. Hovering over their perfect bow shape for just a moment, just long enough feel the weight of this decision, before carefully tilting her chin back and fitting my lips to hers.

The tingle of magick buzzed between us, and it felt like my whole world grinded to a halt. Then slowly, my world began rotating around her, like she was the earth and I was her moon.

Some primal urge tore through me. Something I couldn't fight. 

Mine. She was mine.

And she needed to live.

I gave her two full breaths before going back to compressions.

"Come on, Claire. Wake up. You have to wake up."

I pressed my lips to hers again and again. Blowing life into her lungs. 

On my sixth attempt, when I was starting to lose hope that I wasn't going to be able to save her, my bloodstone flickered back to life.

Thank the gods.

I stopped compressions, and Claire coughed up mouthfuls of water. I eased her onto her side so she didn't choke. Pulling the wet strands of her hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear. 

When the worst of her coughing subsided, I rolled her onto her back, and she fluttered her eyes open, staring up at me with her brows knotted together. 

"What happened?" she asked blearily.

More than you could ever understand.

I chose you this time. 

But, she didn't need to know that. No. She could never know what I'd done. 

"You drowned," I said in a shaky voice. Hovering over her. Protectively caging her body with mine. "But you're okay now."

"Drowned?" she repeated slowly. She sounded confused, and I noticed she could barely keep her eyes open.

Slowly, Claire lifted her hand to the bloodstone dangling over her chest. The one that was beating in time to her heart. I held my breath for fear she'd figure out what it was and what it meant. I hoped she hadn't, but I didn't stop her from taking it in her hand and examining the gem I'd worn for as long as I could remember.

She rubbed a thumb over the stone, regarding it carefully, before her eyes shifted back to mine. Warm and brown and absolutely captivating. 

"Why did you save me?" she asked, releasing the bloodstone, which swung back and forth on its chain. "I thought you hated me for not giving you a choice."

Her question struck at the heart of my struggle. A struggle I had to keep to myself.

I pushed another strand of damp hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. My fingers trailed down the side of her cheek until they grazed the edge of her lips. The urge to press mine against hers again rose inside me, but I pushed it back down. 

"You're irritating enough to be interesting. It would've been foolish of me to let you die."

She tried to laugh but ended up coughing up more water. I watched her carefully, making sure she didn't choke. When the fit had finished, Claire wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then met my gaze. Holding it with so much curiosity, I wished I could read her mind.

"So, according to you, I'm irritating, interesting, brave, stubborn, and insightful."

I lifted a brow and couldn't help the smile that quirked up one side of my mouth. "Are you making a list of the things I've called you?"

"Maybe."

What an interesting creature.  

She was leaving off twice as beautiful as anyone I'd ever met. But, maybe she was keeping that to herself. Gods knew I was keeping plenty more descriptions of her behind my teeth.

Sexy. Delicate. Strong-willed. Tantalizing. 

Stop it, Bastien.

"I'm so tired," she said.

"Then sleep," I replied. "Trust that I'll take care of you."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and they didn't reopen. 

I double-checked that her heart was beating and that she was breathing, then sat back on my heels, trying to catch my breath.

It was rare that I spent much time around a human so frail, and I realized I'd been pushing her too hard. She hadn't seen the world outside the convent, and I had to treat her more gently, no matter how suspicious I was of her.

This couldn't happen again. Especially now that I'd sealed our bond. I'd never be able to live with myself if she died in my care, and Marius would be happy to end my life for causing a scandal. 

Whether I liked it or not, Claire was under my protection, and I needed to take care of her, which meant getting her into dry clothes and back to the inn.

Trying to be as respectful as possible, I eased a hand underneath her back, just below the neck, and fitted the cotton nightgown over her head.

It took longer than I thought it would to get her arms through the dress and pull it down around her body. Claire's limp arms and legs weren't helping the process. And neither was my bloodlust. Every time my fingers touched one of her throbbing veins, my mouth salivated, and I had to force myself to focus on her health. Watching carefully for signs that her heart might give out again.

After easing her arms into each sleeve of the robe, I tied the sash in a simple knot, then fastened the cloak around her shoulders. 

Once she was dressed, I dashed to the other side of the pool to dress myself, then returned as quickly as I could to her side.

Sliding one arm under her knees and wrapping the other around her back, I hoisted her up against my chest. Reveling in the pink tint that had settled in her cheeks. She was alive, and right now, that's all that mattered.

Her warm body curled against me as we left the bathhouse. Her damp hair soaking into my shirt. Her cheek resting against my chest.

I refused to allow myself to think about how good it felt to carry her or how right it felt to be this close to her. Nothing had changed since we'd entered the bathhouse. She still hated me, and I still didn't trust her.

When I opened the door to the inn, we drew stares from my guard, but no one dared say a word as I walked passed them and carried Claire up to our room.

I laid her as carefully as I could on the mattress, then sat in the armchair by the fireplace, turning it so it faced the bed.

The room was dark, save for the firelight, but I had no trouble seeing her face or hearing her breaths. Grabbing a book that was sitting beside me and thumbing it open, I contented myself to read while she slept, but I found myself stealing glances over the top of the book, unable to tear my attention away from her for more than a few seconds. 

She was restless in the sheets. Tossing and turning. Kicking the covers off. Then there was the little noises she made. Soft moans and sighs. Then, I heard my name from between her lips.

"Bastien. No, don't stop."

Something inside me roared with pleasure. I wanted to know exactly what I was doing in her dream that she didn't want me to stop. 

I gritted my teeth and banished the thought from my head. This was how I was going to spend the next year of my life. Having her close but needing to keep her at arm's length.

It was for the best. 

There was a sharp knock at the door, and Claire stirred.

I extracted my pocket watch and checked the time, cursing when I realized I'd forgotten my meeting. 

As quietly as I could, I set the book down and crept toward the door, not wanting to wake her. Cracking it open, I found Natalia waiting for me with her arms crossed.

She opened her mouth, likely to chastise me for being late, and I raised a finger to my lips. I slipped from the room, loathe as I was to leave Claire for more than a second, and stepped into the hallway. 

"We'll be staying an extra night," I said in a voice that brokered no argument. "Inform Sheersa I'm very sorry, but I must speak with her tomorrow."

Natalia stuck her hand on her hip and flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder. "You were adamant that we hurry back to Roselyn. Now, you wish to linger? And since when do you cancel meetings?"

"Since when have you questioned my direction? I'm your commander."

"Since you've started acting strange," She snapped. Her glare shifted to the door, then back to me. "And by the gods, Bastien, you look like hell." I waved her off, but Natalia narrowed her eyes. "You haven't eaten. Have you?"

"Natalia--"

"Does this have something to do with the orphan girl and your morality? Because I'll bleed the girl into a goblet and force-feed you if I have to."

"You will not touch Claire," I warned. My voice little more than a growl. This was the first time since Natalia joined me at Chateau Rose that I'd threatened her, and the shock was plain on her face. "You have your orders."

Frustrated, I retreated inside the room and leaned against the door. Watching Claire as she twisted in the sheets. 

This woman was going to be the death of me. 

Sorry this is a really long chapter, but I just couldn't help myself. 

As you all predicted, Claire's plan backfired! How do you think she's going to feel tomorrow morning?

Question: Which do you like better? Badass female characters that know what they want and aren't afraid to stab a man? All snark and sass? Or softer characters that need to learn how to be strong? 

Fun Fact: This is my first time writing such a soft and inexperienced character. I normally write female characters that are bolder and perhaps a little reckless, like Claire's sister, Sera.  Or Natalia.

I like how curious Claire is, and I also love that she is willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish her mission. She has a lot of room to grow.