Page 93 of The Trials of Ophelia

“Good morning,” Ophelia breathed, nuzzling into my shoulder.

“Morning, beautiful.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she sighed into it.

“You slept?” She sounded so hopeful, voice lilting up at the end, I didn’t have the heart to tell her barely. We’d stayed up late, and once she’d drifted off, I’d tried to also. Hung on the edge of the sheer curtain between waking and sleeping for hours. Each time I fell a little more toward the latter, I’d jolted awake with thoughts of blood and magenta eyes and?—

Sighing, I kissed her again. “Enough.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I’d gotten used to functioning on barely any sleep since the Undertaking. I was more energized by her presence than anything.

“Tol,” she scolded, the sleepy haze clearing from her stare.

“Alabath,” I mimicked her tone. Rolling so her back was to the bed and I hovered over her, I ran my hand down her arm and interlocked our fingers. Brought hers to my lips. “I’m okay.”

War played out behind her eyes, but if you didn’t know her as I did, you wouldn’t have seen it, she was that good at hiding. It couldn’t escape me, though. The clashes of wanting to solve my problems versus waiting for me to be ready. Patience had never been her strong suit.

“Do you ever think keeping it locked up could be doing more harm than good?” She posed the question I’d been really fucking hoping she wouldn’t, but of course she plucked that query right out of my mind. Ophelia knew me better than the Spirits.

I toyed with her fingers. “Every day.” But not enough to know how to face it.

She nodded with an understanding exhale. “No lies.”

“I will never lie to you, Alabath.” Though so much had changed since we swore that to each other at the Sunquist Ball, that had not.

Her eyes heated with the promise, and I was a damn goner. Angellight could have flared around us, the Spirits rising from their realm themselves, and I wouldn’t have noticed. All that existed for me was the woman in my arms and ensuring she was all right despite my past haunting me.

She stretched, and her hand landed on my journal. “What’s this?” Picking it up, she looked at it with a sly smirk.

“No, you don’t!” I plucked it out of her hand and tossed it across the room. I certainly couldn’t have her looking in there.

Her gaze ignited in challenge, but before she could move, I had her hips pinned beneath mine and a gasp escaping her lips. I caught it with my own, kissing her until she forgot that damn notebook.

When we broke apart, she said, a little breathless, “One day, I’m going to know what you write about.”

You already do. “Some dreams may never come true.”

She rolled her eyes, turning contemplative. “Is there anything else bothering you?”

My eyes dropped to her body, trailing down that silk nightgown hugging her so perfectly. The lace at the neckline outlining the swell of her breasts.

“Tol?” she prodded, a laugh in her voice when she caught where my eyes had fallen. Damn, that sound. How had I gone so long without hearing it?

Shaking my head, my eyes fell to the Bind again. Tell her, a voice prodded. And with how well she responded last night, perhaps I could.

The door burst open, slamming back against the wall.

“Told you they’d both be in here,” Jez bragged to Cyph as they entered uninvited.

“Jezebel!” Ophelia shot up, shoving me off of her.

I flopped back against the pillows, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “Do you even consider knocking, Jezzie?”

“No.” She made herself comfortable at the foot of the bed. “I knew you’d be somewhat decent.”

Wasn’t sure what that meant given the last time we’d been in a similar situation, she’d left a contraceptive tonic. The sisters exchanged a glance, some kind of silent communication.

“I said it was a bad idea,” Cyph offered, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Thank you!” I burst.

“Enough, you two,” Ophelia said, rising from the bed and swinging on her tiny silk robe, though I tried to pull her back. “I’m assuming there’s a reason you’re here?”

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