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When his gaze settles on his sister dancing with Ambyrlynn, sadness fills his face.
I cover his hand with mine, offering silent comfort. No words can erase what happened in the past, but Ros is taking steps to ensure that, at least among the huntsmen, it never happens again. He may doubt that he was too hasty in disbanding the organization, but I’m proud of him. Do away with vigilantes and let the paranormal council be the police.
Tris returns, handing me a bowl filled with steamed clams, and I stare down at them doubtfully.
“Just try one.” He scoops a hot shell from the bowl, tossing it from hand to hand before he pries it the rest of the way open and scoops out the inside with his fingers. “Open up.”
My nose wrinkles, but I open for him, and his fingers slip inside.
My lips automatically close, and I suck the salty juice from his fingers as he pulls them from my mouth, leaving behind a tender morsel that bursts with briny flavor.
Tris laughs at my expression. “Good, right? They’re even better with wine, garlic, and butter.”
Leaving me with the bowl, he returns to the pit where Owen stands.
My stomach rumbles with hunger, and I use my fingers to break open the hot shells, reveling in the messiness of the experience. The burn on my fingers adds an extra layer to the delight of eating the small morsels.
Ros chuckles and reaches out to wipe the juice from my chin. “You’re making quite a mess there.”
I grin, unapologetic, and pop the last clam into my mouth, barely chewing before I swallow.
A playful glint fills Ros’s eyes, and he leans in to lick the juice from my chin. He catches my surprised gasp with his lips, and his tongue dips in to playfully curl around mine. I tip my head to the side, returning the kiss, the heat of his lips warming me more than the fire in front of us.
When we part, Ros wraps his arms around me, pulling me to sit between his legs, the warmth of his body at my back ensuring that the chilly night won’t reach me.
His chin settles on my shoulder. “Thank you, Rowe.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “For what?”
His head turns on my shoulder, his focus on Delilah, who now stands with Harper and Ginny. “For all of this. Seeing Delilah surrounded by a community, happy…alive. It means the world to me.”
Sensing he needs to talk, I hug his arm closer and stay silent.
“My stepmother didn’t like me much. I was a necessary evil, the pureblood vampire heir, in the house of her mate, my father,” he says. “She gave all her attention to Delilah, which I didn’t understand when I was younger. Not until I was old enough to move to the barracks, and I realized that, to have me, my father cheated on his mate.”
I squeeze his arms tighter.
“But Delilah never treated me as less. We were both isolated and lonely, and we bonded over that.” Sadness fills Ros’s voice. “Which is why I never told anyone when I caught her sneaking out top-side. She always came back filled with so much happiness that I didn’t want to steal her moments of joy. When she disappeared during one of her top-side visits, I felt so guilty. If I had told on her, maybe I could have prevented her disappearance.”
My fingers trace circles on Ros’s arm. “She was in love with a wolf shifter. They were mates. Had she stayed underground her entire life, she never would have found him and had those months of happiness. If you ask her, I believe she’d tell you it was worth all the pain to spend even that short time with him.”
Ros remains silent, watching his sister.
Delilah’s laughter rings through the air, and he glances at the people gathered around us.
He pulls me closer. “I hope she finds love again. She deserves the same happiness that fills me when I’m with you.”
“I would go through it again, too, you know. If it meant finding you,” I whisper.
A shaky sigh leaves his body, and he presses his cheek to the side of my head.
Together, we watch the night unfold, the bonfire’s glow casting a warm blanket over the impromptu celebration.
As the moon rises in the night sky, Tris returns to our blanket and holds out a hand. “Dance with me, sparky.”
I shake my head. “You know I’m a terrible dancer.”
“But I’m a fantastic lead.” He wiggles his fingers. “Trust me.”
