First Bitten (The Alexandra Jones Series #1)
First Bitten: Chapter 28

The hotel room is shrouded in darkness. There’s a faint glow from the street lamp outside that is shimmering its way across the space, lighting Nathan’s perfect form. He’s laid on his stomach, sleeping, shallow breaths emitting from him. He looks so peaceful, so incredibly beautiful.

I’ll never love anyone like I love him, and I’ll always be his whether I’m with him or not.

I reach down and pick up my bag.

I was always leaving. Having sex with Nathan was the only real and good thing that has happened to me in a long time and now I have that memory forever. But it doesn’t change anything. I was only allowing myself to delay the inevitable.

You’re probably wondering why I’m leaving. You think I’m crazy. I’m not. This is actually the sanest thing I’ve done since I was turned into this monster.

And, trust me, if I could, I would climb back into that bed and curl up against his warm, hard body and stay there forever.

But I have to do this, for him. Because I love him. Nathan will never be safe, or truly happy, while he’s with me. He can’t see it now, but he will, soon.

I can’t allow him to continue risking his life for me. If anything ever happened to him, well, I can just about cope with the thought of living without him so long as I know he’s alive and safe. I couldn’t live without him permanently.

I didn’t want to leave like this, slipping away into the night without a word but, as I’ve discovered, Nathan’s not willing to let me go without a fight. He’s left me no other choice.

I pick his jeans up off the floor, snake his wallet out of the pocket, remove a wad of notes and slip it in my own pocket. I don’t like to do it – I feel like a thief – but if I’m going to get far enough away from Nathan so that he can’t find me, I’m going to need a good head start. I know he won’t let me go easily, he’ll look for me, so I need to ensure I’m not easily findable, by him or by the Originals. I will send the money back to him as soon as I’m on my feet.

I resist the urge to touch him one last time, afraid I’ll wake him. Silent tears trickle down my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them away.

I take one last look at him, ingraining him onto my memory. Then, using every ounce of strength I have, I turn and move silently through the room.

With a quiet click of the door I let myself out into the well-lit hallway.

And then I run.

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