"You're so good at taking me. How do you feel?" he asks.
“Amazing.”
"I just can't be gentle when I'm around you, Keira. You bring out something in me."
"Well, I didn't ask you to be,” I say and smile. “I don't want you to be."
He smiles back and kisses me. "Good."
"You're beautiful," he says, his voice rough.
Heat floods my cheeks, and I smile.
"Shit, you really are beautiful. It's crazy."
I run my finger up and down his cheek. "You already said that."
"I'll say it as many times as I need to. It's true."
He helps me off the counter, his hands steadying me when my legs threaten to give out. He hands me my clothes, and we dress.
He then pulls me into his arms, holding me close.
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. For the first time in God knows how long, I feel at peace.
But then reality creeps in and doesn't allow me that feeling for long. The gala tonight. The Phantom King. The threats. Everything.
"Octavian," I say, not moving my head.
"Yeah?"
"What happens now?"
He's quiet for a long moment, his hand stroking my hair. "I don't know," he admits. "But I'm here, and we'll get through this."
"Yeah," I say, because what else should I say?
"In the meantime, why don't you go back to bed for a bit? I'll go with you," he says, and I look up at him. "If that's alright?"
I smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."
We walk back to my room, and as he lays me down in my bed and pulls the blanket over us, still holding me like he might never let go, I realize amidst all this chaos, I'm falling for him hard. It's scary because it's uncontrollable.
And as I drift off to sleep, my head resting on his chest, I can't help but think,
I'm his.
And maybe I was always meant to be.
30
OCTAVIAN
Istare at the ceiling as Keira's breathing slows and gets shallow. She's finally asleep.
Her body is curled into mine, one leg tossed over my thigh, her hand resting on my chest like it belongs there. Like I belong here.
I should stay. Every damn nerve ending in me is begging to stay. To wrap myself around her and sink into this warmth, this quiet, this thing I don't have a name for.
