Rin let herself stare at him for a second and wondered if she’d misjudged him—her vampiric captor. He was runninghimself ragged, nursing them back to health. Who was taking care of him?
A soft clatter from beyond the closed bedroom door made her jerk her head up. She tiptoed to the door and closed it softly behind her. She kept her hand on the wall to trace a path, following the sound. She wasn’t scared for some reason, already knowing...
Auren was in the kitchen, hands braced against the kitchen island, head bowed. He wore his cloak, hood pushed back. His scythe lay on the ground, as if he’d dropped it.
"Auren?" Rin questioned quietly.
The wide windows in the open living and kitchen area let in dull moonlight, shrouded by fog.
Auren didn’t move. She padded toward him, staring at her small, pale hand as she gently touched his back. His muscles flexed beneath her hand. His cloak was ice cold.
"Are you okay? What happened? Was it another call?" She knew how the violence of reaping got to him.
He turned to face her then, gripping her shoulders. His blue eyes shone with tears, red-rimmed like his wind-chapped cheeks. "Vesperin," Auren murmured. And that word—god, it held so much pain. "Vesperin, I need—" His mouth opened, lips moving. No words came.
Rin reached up to touch his cold cheek, her fingers grazing the bottom point of the Star on his face. "What do you need, Auren? What can I do?"
Auren’s brows furrowed as he made an agonized sound. "Come somewhere with me.Please. I need… you."
She thought that wasn’t what he was going to say, but the plea came anyway.
"Okay. You have me," she consoled. "Where do you want to go?"
"I owe you a cup of cherry blossom tea."
The first impressionRin had of Auren’s mountain cottage was peace.
It was night. The windows revealed shadows of swaying tree branches with thick foliage. She thought she heard a distant trill—a Rogue?
Auren took her hand, distracting her. "It is safe." He didn’t meet her eyes. "Any Rogue that comes will meet its end at my blade."
The wooden floor creaked under their feet. In the darkness, she trusted him to lead her. The backs of her legs pressed against something soft.
"Sit," Auren told her. "You—you must be cold. I will light a fire."
Rin sat, a soft cushion dimpling beneath her. With a soft hiss, golden firelight filled the room. She took in the space. Low couches, with a polished wooden table before her. The wooden walls were lined with shelves of stacked books.
She was enchanted by it all.
Her fingers tangled in a throw on the cushion beside her, and she dragged it over her lap. "It’s beautiful, Auren," she said delicately, sensing something was amiss with her Soul Searcher.
Two steaming mugs of tea were in his hands as he sat beside her, pressing one into her palms. "Careful, do not burn yourself."
Rin’s pinky brushed his as she took it, hissing as heat slipped through the porcelain into her palm. She cradled it by the handle. Auren tsked, gripping his own mug without care as he set it on the table.
He took her hand in his, stretching her fingers out as he studied her reddening palm. He brought it up to his mouth and blew a cool breath over her flesh. Goosebumps traveled up her arm, settling somewhere deep between her thighs. She pressed her legs together.
"I warned you, Vesperin. These smooth, beautiful hands—far too pretty to be a Hunter." His fingers traced over the lines of her palm.
Though the delicate, floral aroma wafting from their mugs was enticing, she forgot all about her tea. She stretched forward and placed her mug beside his. Twin plumes of steam curled around each other above the cups.
"Auren, what happened?"
The change in him was immediate. His expression shuttered, yet she saw the pain in his eyes. "Why do you think that… something happened?"
"Our Souls are tied. I think that I’m beginning to know you more and more. Something’s bothering you. What is it? You can tell me, Auren."
"Can I?" he asked lowly. She started to reply, but he tutted. "That was not for you to answer. Forgive my bitter tone. I am not angry with you, but because I—" His features drew tight with pain. "I have to—to tell—you that—Celestials, they do not make it easy to burden me so." He dropped her hand and gripped his hair. "I cannot do this," he gasped.
