“What’s going on?” I demand. I release Elliot’s hand, brushing past Sebastian to stand in the center of the room. “Where is everyone?”
My eyes shift around the space, moving from one face to another. They’re placed strategically, braced for conflict. Beatrice and Grace stand at one hallway opening. Milas and Amelia at another. Then Sebastian, squared near the front door. Otherwise, the house is silent. There’s no sound of movement, even when I strain my ears.
I spin, facing Sebastian again.
“What happened?”
To my surprise, he looks irritated. Before he can utter a word, Grace laughs, and her pealing sound breaks through the quiet of the room. The tension ebbs out of Sebastian with that singular sound. Something about Grace hasalwaysdone this to him.
“You think he had vampires running around loose while you were out there, unaccounted for?” Beatrice drawls. “C’mon, Cora.”
I whirl around, gauging everyone’s expressions. They all look amused, sharing glances like troublesome teenagers, giggling over an inside joke. They’re not geared for battle at all, I realize. They’rebabysitting, making sure the exit is guarded against stubborn vampires.
I wasn’t stupid! I’m tempted to yell.I was safe, warded. I took care of myself. You didn’t need to look out for me.
But when I turn back to Sebastian and his scowling expression, I surprise us both by whispering, “thank you.”
“Go to your quarters,” he replies, voice strained. “Before I lose my fucking mind.”
I barely sleep.I’ve never shared a bed before, and it’s surreal havingElliotbeneath the covers with me. I lay with my back pressed to his chest, the heat of his bare skin burning against mine. I don’t typically sleep naked, but after we had sex last night, I couldn’t fathom putting clothes on. It’s too lovely, the feeling of his skin against mine.
For as long as we have this, I’m going to enjoy it. Even if that means I can’t sleep, too intoxicated by his presence to do anything but count his steady breaths. He doesn’t move in his sleep, not like I know I do. By the time morning rolls around, he’s in the exact same position as when he fell asleep. His chin is tucked against the top of my head, and his arm is wrapped protectively over my waist, snaking up between my breasts. I keep my hands on his forearm, lightly brushing the skin of his wrist.
We’re surrounded by memories. They line the walls of my bedroom, filling the small space with endless colors. The thrashing greens and blues and reds all make up years of hard-earned control. It’s difficult to imagine giving it up.
Elliot’s breath shifts. It’s almost indiscernible. If I hadn’t spent all night noticing him, I might have missed it.
“You’re awake,” I say.
He jolts like I’ve stabbed him.
“Hells,” he gasps. “I thought you were asleep.”
I don’t respond. I study all the jars on the walls. It will take days to reabsorb them. We probably shouldn’t do it all at once either. I’m not sure if memory overload is a thing, but if it is, we definitely have enough to cause it. There areyearsof memories around us, and it will likely be unpleasant, putting them all back.
“Secora?” he asks.
His voice is gravelly with sleep as he untangles himself from me. He props onto his elbow, gently rotating me until I’m flat on my back. His skin is golden and smooth. His hair is an absolute mess. Until we shared a tent, I had no idea how long it took him to make his hair look like it normally does.
“What’re you thinking?” he asks. He traces my jawline, stopping to press his thumb against my lower lip.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just…enjoying this.”
“Yeah?” he asks. Despite everything, he looks unsure.
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he says. He presses a feather light kiss to my lips, then my temple. When he glances at the wall to my right, his eyes reflect the colorful memories. I expect him to say something, but he only kisses me again, firmer this time.
“We’ll probably want to do it slowly,” I say. When he smirks, I roll my eyes. “The memories, I mean. At least in the beginning, we should make sure there aren’t side effects. It’ll be better to do a little bit at a time.”
“Whatever you want,” he says. Another kiss on the side of my mouth. “Slow. Fast. Rough. Gentle. Against a tree. In the lake…”
I shut him up with a kiss, and I don’t let up until we’re both breathing hard and he’s cleaning remnants of himself from my thighs. I touch myself as he gets dressed, feeling the pleasant soreness, the subtle ache that’s already desperate for more.
“You keep touching yourself like that, and we’re going to be here all day,” Elliot says as he tucks his shirt into his pants. He’s already wearing his shoes, and his hair has been styled.
Meanwhile, I’m still naked in bed, fantasizing over what we just finished.
