Saint visibly swallows. “He’s no longer my brother.”
I take a step closer. “It’s okay to say he is,” I assure him. “All those years of love just don’t disappear.”
“They do.” His eyes are shinning.
“Saint,” I hedge, reaching for his hand. My fingertips graze the back, and I swear electricity crackles where we touch. “You know you can be yourself with me, right? You’ve seen me at my worst. Slipping in and out of reality. Being afraid of my own damn shadow. Unsure how to separate the nightmares from real life.” I blow out a breath. “You haven’t turned away from me. Andnothingcould make me turn away from you, either.”
His lips part, and my breath catches at the surprised look in his eyes. “I…” He leans closer, almost like he can’t help but bend to draw nearer to my mouth. “I need to clear the castle.” He pulls back, sending my head spinning. “I took our bags to the primary chambers.” He turns and disappears before I can stop him.
“Okay then,” I say to the night, and turn back into a home that feels nothing like mine, despite it belonging to me now.
An hour before dawn, I’ve unpacked and settled in the oversized bed with a book. One good thing about this inheritance was the collection of rare books I found in the library on the third floor.
The place was immaculate, right down to the buttery soft bedding I have tucked around me. Tomorrow, I’ll have to find a proper way to thank the staff who prepared the place for Saint and me. Maybe Saint will know the correct way to say thank you, since I have no experience with noble decorum or customs. I have so much to learn if I’m going to be of service to the king.
Saint comes through the door I left open, looking entirely too good freshly showered. He wears a pair of black sweats that hang low on his hips, his chest on full display. I get lost in the whorls of ink decorating his skin, especially the mark identical to mine that winds up his neck, then the muscles corded beneath it. He looks almost vulnerable like this—no holsters, no knives, no boots. His feet are bare and tiny droplets of water cling to his short hair.
My fangs pulse as I catch his scent as he moves toward the couch across the room, a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” I say for the third time since we arrived.
He arches a brow at me, eyes lingering on the pink tank top I wear. “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse.”
I laugh. “Like a stone chamber?”
“Yeah.” There’s a small grin shaping his mouth. “Compared to that? This couch is heaven.”
I lean back, stretching against the luxurious mountain of pillows and blankets. “This bed is certainly something I could get used to,” I admit.
Saint settles on the sofa, facing me. “Could you live here?”
I sink farther into the pillows but shift so I can keep looking at him across the room. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I haven’t thought much about the future.” I’ve been focused on surviving, adjusting, both of which I finally feel like I’m doing right for once. “I have more to learn,” I continue. “Gabriel and Iare only scratching the surface of my ability. We have more work to do, even though I’m terrified from moving on from testing myself against plants. The idea of using my power on actual living creatures…” I want to be able to help heal things, like I’ve healed plants, but I’ve killed just as many along the way. Who’s to say I won’t do that with real beings?
“Gabriel is certainly a good teacher.” He offers. “But after all that, you could explore. This is all yours now.”
“I would miss you.” The admission flies from my mouth before I can stop it. “And my friends,” I hurry to add, clearing my throat. “What about you? You’ve lived all over the world. What do you want to do after…”
I don’t need to elaborate on whataftermeans. After the war with Samuel and the Sons of Honor ends.
Saint shifts to his back, folding his arms beneath his head as he stares at the ceiling. “I haven’t let myself think that far ahead.”
Something about the way he says it has an instinct prickling deep in my soul. An itch that begs me to push him for the truth, but I respect him too much to pry for answers he’s not ready to give.
“Good night, Aurora,” he whispers after we’ve fallen silent for a few moments.
“Good night, Saint.” I settle farther under the covers as he turns the lights off before returning to the couch. And I hate how much I wished he’d join me in this bed instead.
Aurora’s thighs are soft as I stroke her legs before skimming higher to grip her hips. I draw her closer to me, bending to capture her perfect mouth with mine as I settle between her thighs. Fuck, she’s pliant and hot beneath me, smelling like a dream and feeling like my personal heaven. She arches beneathme, so responsive to my touch, it’s like we’re magnets. I kiss her deeper, stealing her breath and making her whimper. She’s mine to please, mine to protect, mine to drink. I draw back, my fangs aching to sink into her neck.
“Yes,” she begs. “Please.” She turns her head, exposing her neck.
I hesitate, but only for a moment, before I sink my fangs into her flesh?—
I bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding. My fangs are out and heat pools deep in my core from the dream. That dream was most certainly from Saint’s point of view, not mine.
I see him across the room, sprawled on the couch, lost to sleep.
His dreams. I’m seeing them now. Even when he’s not trying to actively look into mine or alter my reality. I reach for a spare pillow next to me and chuck it at him.