Finally, she cracks her eyes open. Her gaze slides over me, hazy and unfocused. “You’re back.”
“I am.” I slide out of my jacket and drape it over a chair, shucking off my belt and jeans as well. “I wanted to let you know so I didn’t frighten you. I’m, uh, going to sleep downstairs.”
“Are we in the library?” she asks in a sleep-soaked voice.
My heart hiccups in my chest. “The library?”
Her eyes drift shut. She nods. “Where you always find me.”
Was it all real then?
Had we somehow managed to travel realms, to find each other in our sleep?
I cough into my fist, then say, “No, we’re at the carriage house.”
She rolls over, snuggling deeper into the sheets. “Will you stay with me?”
I swallow against the swell in my throat. Up here, the sweet, lily-like smell of her calm chokes me. I want to slide into bed beside her and taste every inch of her flesh. “I can, if that’s what you want.”
She makes another small noise, nods, and then goes still.Back to sleep.
I shower quickly and drink a can of synthetic blood, hopeful the alternative will keep my hunger at bay for a little while longer. I’m never at risk of losing control of myself like a strigoi or sith, but there’s no doubt in my mind that being so close to her body and surrounded by her scent will be a challenge.
This is no longer a matter of what I want versus what I am allowed to do.
One day, Diantha will be my leader. My freedom will sit in her hands. I won’t risk my reputation in her eyes. Even though it has never been more obvious to me as it is in this moment that I would change every element of my life to fit perfectly around her, if it meant I never had to see another night without her.
I am weak for her. But it is in this weakness that I find real strength. I am not just an animal, driven by instinct. I am not just a brutal beast. There is still something divine in me, fragments of my soul clinging to my bones after all these years. And they call out to her, they reach toward her goodness.
The sun breaks through the trees in a cascade of soft orange light. It falls over the forest floor, catching on the last remnants of ice and snow, and I draw the curtains nearly completely shut, allowing them to let in just enough sunlight so that we can cohabitate despite our differences.
Then, I make my way up to the loft, slide into the pajama pants she discarded, and slip between the sheets.
Diantha
He moves so swiftly,so soundlessly, that I don’t realize he’s back in the loft until I hear the rustling of the sheets beside me. Then, his heat envelops me. It’s like sinking into a bath up to my chin.
I reach through the darkness until I feel his flesh under my fingers. The hard, sculpted muscles of his shoulder. “Can I touch you?”
He chuckles—that low, dry laugh. “Can you touch me?” He turns toward me and I feel his hand rest over mine, flat against his chest. “You can do whatever you wish.”
I drift across the sheets until my leg slots between his, tangling us together. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Why not?” His voice is a gentle rumble vibrating under my hand. I follow the hard angles of his chest, the contour of his pectoral muscles. “Is it not true? Have I not always made this known?”
“I…I don’t want to think about power. Mine or anyone else’s.”
I find the steady thump of his heart growing harder and stronger. I remember what he said:you do this to me. Desire swells deep in my belly and I feel myself growing damp between my thighs.
“You want to be soft with me.” His hands find the deep indent of my waist, then the hem of the pajama top, skimming beneath until he finds the tender skin underneath my breast.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
We stay like this for a moment. I slide my hands up and down his chest, boldly, while he cups my breasts. The callouses of his hands send shivers through me as they chafe against my nipples.
“And this?” His lips are almost flush against the shell of my ear.
