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I freeze as the fullness of being close to her makes me feel… so many things. Then I force myself to relax in case going tense makes her wake up. She’s so warm. So warm and soft, I think I might die even though I’m not capable of it. I look at the ceiling and try to memorize the feeling of everywhere her body presses against mine.
A monster like me doesn’t deserve even a night’s respite of such heaven, but I’m stealing it all the same. Maybe I’m a thief, just like my Creator-Father after all.
Because when Vlad said I needed to marry his granddaughter in order to fulfill the blood oath my brother owed him, I didn’t protest. The hunger in me rushed to agree. But Phoenix hates the way her grandfather manipulates her, so of course she wouldn’t be interested in me last night.
I was a fool, seeing my brothers with their consorts and thinking this was my opportunity for the same. What do I know of comfort or love?
My mind immediately shies away from the word. I don’t love Phoenix. I just feel affection for her. It’s all I’m capable of. We are good companions. A good match. I’m a being of hunger, and she’s fed by beings of endless thirst. Plus, she couldn’t respect anyone susceptible to her compulsion.
It still doesn’t mean she wants you.
I shake off the thought. Wanting doesn’t matter anymore. We’re married now, for better or worse.
I sigh quietly and close my eyes, going back to memorizing the feel of her. The soft exhale and the feel of her abdomen against the side of my torso as she draws in another breath and then releases it again. Her warm thigh tucked against mine. The way she clings to me in her sleep with complete trust and vulnerability.
In wakefulness, she is all hard lines and cool, unfeeling determination. But here, in the dark of night, she has gone so soft. So, so soft.
My body reacts in the way a man does to a woman being so close, but I ignore it. I may crave her, but I would never disrespect her trust. The torture of having her so close is welcome, and I’m familiar with disciplining myself.
I continue committing the feel of her to memory until morning light begins creeping through the window. I want to deny the light. To message the old charioteer and threaten him until he carries the sun backward and allows the moon to linger a little longer. Just a little longer.
But too soon, Phoenix’s eyes flutter awake. Almost immediately, she realizes how close she’s crawled against me and yanks away, wiping at her mouth.
“Sorry,” she mutters, sleepy eyes averted from mine. “I’ll go get showered.”
And just like that, her warmth is gone as she flees the bed for the bathroom. My teeth clench in emptiness as the door slams shut, and I jam my head against the pillow. I scrub a hand down my face. “Fool,” I reprimand myself harshly.
Twenty minutes later she comes out wrapped only in a towel. In the time she was away, I’ve mastered myself. So I avert my eyes from her and her exposed thighs, keeping my distance as I pass by her. “I’ll get washed up as well,” I say.
She makes a small noise of assent. Fuck, but this is awkward. Our old easiness around each other is gone. Considering the circumstances, I suppose it’s to be expected, but I hate it. I take the fastest shower of my life. By the time I get out, Phoenix is already dressed in her usual tight black jeans, long-sleeved black shirt, and busted-up combat boots. Her black hair is up in a ponytail. Princess of darkness. I hide my smile.
She looks up at me, and her cheeks color briefly before she turns her back. I still just have my towel tied around my waist.
“Hurry up,” she quips. “There’s a lecture I don’t want to miss in the city at eleven.”
I pause as I tug a shirt over my head. We had a few weeks to prep for the wedding, but I was busy running interference between Vlad’s entourage and my family most of the time. The little I did get to spend with Phoenix, Sabra was there too as we monitored global communications to screen the fallout from the bit of magic we did a month earlier to stave off the end of the world.
Mostly, it was just squabbling amongst officials about the various government cover-ups and military solutions, along with rampant conspiracy theories floating about what actually happened. So far, we haven’t seen anyone except the mages guessing the truth. And even they didn’t know the whole of it. That Phoenix, Sabra, and I had called over interdimensional beings from another plane to consume the nuclear energy before an angelic AI launched World War III. It was a near thing. Some missiles were already in the air, but we pulled it off just in time.
The mages from various continents were rumbling about putting together a global council for the first time—something like a magical United Nations—to keep something like this from happening ever again. Or at least to punish any magic movers who got out of control. The human population was supposed to be ignorant of the existence of magic and other planes. Or at least it was a hot topic of debate amongst the mages. Sabra said there were so many factions and divisions she couldn’t imagine them ever getting together to agree on a council. But time would tell.
For the moment, things were calm.
“What kind of lecture?” I ask.
I see her shoulders straighten a little. “Are you decent?”
I finish buttoning my pants. “Yes.”
She turns around and takes a deep breath. “So we haven’t exactly had a lot of time to talk, huh?”
“We were kinda busy dealing with the fallout from the almost end-of-the-world.” And we willfully allowed that to distract us from the reality of our upcoming nuptials. But I don’t add that part.
“I’m in school. Getting my Ph.D. in Ancient Religions.”
I blink several times. “Vlad lets you—?”
“Vlad doesn’t let me do anything,” she bites, and I hold up my hands. “I live my own life.”
