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We linger for a moment in silence, neither of us sure what to say. But I can feel the pulse of my heart throbbing through my blood, stirring me to life, willing me to close the space between us. Erik and I were friends for a long time, but this is new. We’re still learning how to be together and what we’re willing to share with the rest of the world.
“While they were talking about strategies,” Erik says, taking a strand of my hair in his fingers, “I could only think about kissing you.”
I try to hold back the smile that jumps to my lips, but I can’t, not entirely.
“Unfortunately, the strategy room isn’t the place to make up for lost time,” he says, a smile curving onto his face.
“We’re not there now,” I remind him.
He doesn’t need any more incentive. The bunker’s emergency lights flicker around us and with one smooth motion Erik flips the generator switch, flooding the room in darkness. I can’t see him in the blackness, but I sense his presence and I feel his heat radiating as he draws me to him. His lips move along the curve of my jaw and linger at my ear.
“I love you, Adelice,” he whispers.
Time slows as his words light upon me, but in my chest something bursts into a million fragments that melt back together instantly, remaking me into someone entirely new.
“I love you, too.”
His lips close over mine at the affirmation and we slip into each other. Each of us evolving in the other’s arms—a person stronger because of the other, but more vulnerable as well. His fingers grip the hem of my blouse and he pauses.
“Yes,” I whisper into his chest even as I find myself in danger of exploding from the sensations crowding my body. He fumbles a little as he finds my buttons, and I laugh.
“I didn’t expect you to be nervous.” My words are too high-pitched and I realize how anxious I sound, but Erik laughs as well.
“This is a first for me, too.”
“Erik,” I say softly, and he stops. His face is a sketch against the darkness, the lines of it smooth and fluid, but his eyes are silver as they wait for me to speak. “I’m scared.”
His hands cup my face and he gives me a sad smile. I don’t have to tell him what I’m scared of. The war, what will happen next, Amie’s change, Cormac’s descent into madness. And most of all, who I will be after this moment, because this love is fresh and raw. I can already feel its wounds written across my body, singing with the tenderness of newborn skin.
“Don’t be,” he whispers. His hands don’t leave my face. They are warm and steady as he waits. Finally, I pull them down and clasp them into my own. I take a small, but deliberate step backward. And another. And another. Until my calf bumps into the wooden frame of the bunk. I lie down and Erik climbs in beside me. Our bodies press together as he brings his lips to mine.
Erik isn’t aggressive, even if his touch is urgent, and I understand because I’ve been holding this at bay for a long time, too—since that first night in the courtyard when we danced under the moonlight, and I kissed him because he dared to give me hope. Everything fits with him. The way his lips are soft but full on mine. The way my body locks into his. Our first kiss flashes through my mind. The silver moonlight, the trees etching the dark courtyard, dancing without music. But as we find each other now the world lights up around me, haloing Erik in brilliant life, and the music of time weaves around us, filling the air with a gentle, slow harmony that builds toward a soft cadence.
He’s careful and kind, waiting for my cues. My nerves sing out where he touches me, sparking to life, and then his skin is on mine and my body bursts into fire and longing until there’s no space left between us at all.
TWENTY-TWO
I WAKE TANGLED IN ERIK’S ARMS AND peer across to him, my eyes adjusting to the dark, his blond hair a mess across the pillow. I’m torn between pulling the crumpled sheet up over me and waking him. But while his eyes are closed, I can keep the ache niggling in me at bay, so I watch him sleep and wonder how I’ll feel when those blue eyes eventually open. I draw my fingers through my hair to see if it’s as untidy as his and then let them trace my own face, feeling for a change. Confusion churns deep inside me. I’m exactly the same, but everything is different.
Slipping from the bed, I wrap the sheet around me and examine myself in the window. Outside the glass, the world is black and my pale silhouette is reflected in it. I let the sheet fall open and study my body. It’s still mine. There’s no sign of a change, but it’s there. I can’t see or touch it, but I feel it somewhere, instinctually. Somewhere outside the bunker, a floodlight bursts on, and I back away, catching flashes of a woman in the pane’s reflection. It looks like my mother but then I realize it’s me. As the light streaks across the room, it slants through the windows and lights silver on Erik’s face, causing him to stir. He’s beautiful in his sleep, but soon his eyes flutter. The first wave of uncertainty rolls through me, catching my breath. He gets up gracefully, rubbing sleep from his eyes, unaware of the profound shift in the room.
“You are beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching to pull me back to him and kissing my neck as I tumble into his arms.
I stare at the window, watching the reflection of two lovers as I try to comprehend the evolution of our relationship—what we’ve shared. Erik’s mirrored eyes meet mine, and he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to—his gaze says it all. In the window, he looks like a man. Lean and tall. The angles of his jaw more defined under a thin layer of stubble. I still look like a girl. Too thin. No curves. But there’s something in my face that makes a different case. The couple in the glass share a secret. Will it be obvious to everyone when they see us? Will everyone know?
I don’t have time to decide, because the office door swings open and Jax’s head pops in.
“Knock!” Erik yells at him as I clutch the sheet closer to me.
“Sorry,” Jax says, turning his head away. “But we have a problem. Dante needs you both downstairs now.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, tripping over the sheet to get to my clothes.
“Alixandra is here,” he says.
“What?” I stop scrambling and stare at t
he back of Jax’s head.
