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pleading. She knew that her own face was fearless, soft yet intense, her lips slightly parted. They
were both breathing quickly now, together, in rhythm. Elena could feel it when he started to shake,
trembling as he had when the memories of Katherine had become too much to bear. Then, very gently
and deliberately, she drew that snarling mouth down to her own.
He tried to oppose her. But her gentleness was stronger than all his inhuman strength. She shut her
eyes and thought only of Stefan, not of the dreadful things she had learned tonight but of Stefan, who
had stroked her hair as lightly as if she might break in his hands. She thought of that, and she kissed
the predatory mouth that had threatened her a few minutes ago.
She felt the change, the transformation in his mouth as he yielded, responding helplessly to her,
meeting her soft kisses with equal softness. She felt the shudder go through Stefan's body as the hard
grip on her shoulders softened, too, becoming an embrace. And she knew she'd won.
"You will never hurt me," she whispered.
It was as if they were kissing away all the fear and desolation and loneliness inside them. Elena felt
passion surge through her like summer lightning, and she could sense the answering passion in Stefan.
But infusing everything else was a gentleness almost frightening in its intensity. There was no need for
haste or roughness, Elena thought as Stefan gently guided her to sit down.
Gradually, the kisses grew more urgent, and Elena felt the summer lightning flicker all through her
body, charging it, making her heart pound and her breath catch. It made her feel strangely soft and
dizzy, made her shut her eyes and let her head fall back in abandon.
It's time, Stefan, she thought. And, very gently, she drew his mouth down again, this time to her
throat. She felt his lips graze her skin, felt his breath warm and cool at once. Then she felt the sharp
sting.
But the pain faded almost instantly. It was replaced by a feeling of pleasure that made her tremble.
A great rushing sweetness filled her, flowing through her to Stefan.
At last she found herself gazing into his face, into a face that at last had no barriers against her, no
walls. And the look she saw there made her feel weak.
"Do you trust me?" he whispered. And when she simply nodded, he held her eyes and reached for
something beside the bed. It was the dagger. She regarded it without fear, and then fixed her eyes
again on his face.
He never looked away from her as he unsheathed it and made a small cut at the base of his throat.
Elena looked at it wide-eyed, at the blood as bright as holly berries, but when he urged her forward
she did not try to resist him.
Afterward he just held her a long time, while the crickets outside made their music. Finally, he
stirred.
"I wish you could stay here," he whispered. "I wish you could stay forever. But you can't."
"I know," she said, equally quiet. Their eyes met again in silent communion. There was so much to
say, so many reasons to be together. "Tomorrow," she said. Then, leaning against his shoulder, she
whispered, "Whatever happens, Stefan, I'll be with you. Tell me you believe that."
His voice was hushed, muffled in her hair. "Oh, Elena, I believe it. Whatever happens, we'll be
together."