DESPERATE FOR HIS TOUCH.

Chapter: 82

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VALE:

I watched as Virgil fell deeper into sleep, the rise and fall of his chest soothing to me. His hair, dark and tousled, framed his face beautifully. I brushed a lock behind his ear, my fingers lingering on the silky strands, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. “My rogue,” I whispered, kissing his forehead softly.

Reluctantly, I untangled myself from his head, careful not to disturb him. The urge to carry him was overwhelming, and as I lifted him into my arms, I felt the familiar rush of protectiveness surge within me. He fit against me perfectly, a comforting weight that made my heart swell. I began to walk upstairs, every step deliberate as I relished the closeness.

But as soon as we reached the bedroom, a familiar scent enveloped me—woodsmoke and rain, a fragrance that was unmistakably Virgil’s, even in his current form. It was a scent that went beyond the normal boundaries of my senses. As a vampire, he wasn’t supposed to have a distinct smell, ye