I shake my head and her eyebrows draw together in confusion. “I actually overheard the both of you talking back at the cabin.”
She looks startled. Then pained.
“Oh, Haven,” she says. “I’m so sorry. The things I said . . . the things Becks said . . .” She shakes her head, clearly upset. “We didn’t mean most of it. You never should have found out like that.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “I’m glad I found out. I should have talked with Becks about it right away, but I didn’t. I hung on to it, and it made me feel like maybe I was just filling in a void you left behind.”
“No. It’s not like that. I mean, I was worried at first, but not anymore. What he and I had was small, temporary. What you and Becks have is real. I truly believe that now. It’s deeper than anything we ever were. I can tell by the way he looks at you. The way he chooses you.”
My chest tightens again, but this time it’s something warmer.
“And I don’t want to take your parents,” she continues. “I don’t want to take your life or your place. I just want a chance to be part of it. Part of you.”
Something in me finally gives.
“I don’t want this weirdness between us anymore,” I say. “Especially not right now. Not when everything else feels so uncertain.”
She smiles then, small but genuine. “Me neither.”
We sit there for a moment, the tension finally easing, replaced with something tentative and hopeful.
“We’re sisters,” she says softly, reaching out to take my hand and give it a squeeze. “Even if we’re still figuring out what that looks like.”
I nod. “We are.”
Since she walked into my life, the thought no longer scares me.
Locklyn stays a little while longer. We talk with an ease we haven’t had before. She tells me more about her and Talon, details about their relationship and how they got together that I didn’t know. I tell her about how my mom almost walked in on Becks and me kissing, and she tells me about how Talon caught him dropping out of my window, and we both break down into laughter so hard my muscles ache.
The time feels restorative, ending too soon when she glances at her watch and says she needs to go.
We share a long hug, and I try not to dwell on the possibility that this might be our last. There are no guarantees, and what she’s about to do is dangerous.
Before she leaves, she tells me not to worry, with a grin that’s almost convincing.
She’s only gone a few minutes before Becks reappears. He asks how it went. I let him know that it was good and thank him for giving us some space.
After that, he ushers me to bed, telling me that he’ll stay while I sleep and wake me before dawn when it’s time to leave. I plait my damp hair into a quick braid and settle under the covers, secretly wishing it was easier for Becks to slide in next to me. I drop a hint about it, remembering what it was like to wake up in his arms, but he’s firm about wanting to keep watch while I’m asleep.
I’ve never hated noble intentions more.
At first, I drift off quickly. My body and mind exhausted and still healing, but sometime in the night I jolt awake, my heart racing, adrenaline pumping. It takes a few beats for me to remember where I am, and when I glance over, Becks is in a padded chair right next to my bed, his arms crossed over his chest, head slightly lolled to the side. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing slowly and steadily as he sleeps.
The sight of him calms my heart. He’d want me to wake him up; he didn’t intend to fall asleep, but he looks too peaceful to disturb. Regardless of what he says, he needs the rest as much as I do.
Lying back down, I try to fall back asleep, but I toss and turn for at least an hour before giving up. Quietly, I slide out of bed and tiptoe past Becks, planning to check on Tate again. I pad down the hall, which is empty and silent because of the late hour. On the way, I pass another occupied room, glimpsing a figure lying prone in a bed through the slats of the blinds.
Cassian. The Vampire King himself.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I slowly push open the door, peeking into the room.
Cassian doesn’t have tubes hooked up to him like Tate does, but he’s so pale he almost looks dead. I’m drawn into the room, if for no other reason that it strikes me as sad he doesn’t have anyone here for him.
Maybe I shouldn’t be bothered with that. If the stories are true, he was as much of a monster as the demon who influenced him. But he served two thousand years of punishment for those crimes and lost everyone he ever loved. Perhaps that’s penance enough.
Cassian’s breaths aren’t slow and steady like someone in a restful sleep, but heavy and uneven, as though each breath costs him something. His gaze cracks open when I quietly take a seat next to him, startling me.
“I suppose it’s good to see you made it out alive.” He doesn’t sound overly happy about it.
