The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing Bevis standing silhouetted against the dim hallway light. His once-familiar features were now hardened into an expression I barely recognized.
"Did you come just to persuade me?" His voice was like shards of ice scraping against stone. "To comfort me about strangers? To flaunt your happiness under that cursed fate?"
I swallowed hard, my fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of my dress. The scent of antiseptic and old books filled the room, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood that always seemed to linger around Bevis these days.
"Don't tell me you'd actually bear that vampire's child," he continued, his upper lip curling in disgust. "It would only be a monstrous abomination!" His hands clenched at his sides, the knuckles turning white. "Dying for him once was enough, Margie—he doesn't deserve your devotion!"
