Page 50 of Whispers of Fire

Sitting at my desk doing my homework for the Institute, I hear a small vibration coming from my nightstand where I've hidden Vox’s phone.

Even if it's my first time having one, I've seen enough people in the street with them to understand how it works. Also, I was kind of spying on a lady in front of me at the supermarket while she was typing a text.

It didn't look that hard.

Phones are forbidden at the Institute and apart from Elders like my father, it's not usual to have one in the community. Especially if you're a woman. Needless to say, the internet is a concept I've never had the opportunity to discover.

No phone, no laptop, nothing. Only allowed books and the Ascendium, of course.

My heart skips a bit as I read Vox’s message. He's wondering if I'll be coming to his house tonight.

God, I wish I would tell him no, that I need time to think and such. But he's been on my mind the whole day, his words and touches haunting me.

Despite the rules and the risks, there's a magnetic pull drawing me towards him. We’re both so different and at the same time so alike. I can’t get enough of the thrill I get each time I spend in his presence. Especially with his way of taking care of me. It's… intoxicating . But with every heartbeat, there's a pang of guilt, knowing that by indulging in him, I'm betraying the trust of my family and the principles of our community.

Should I stay at my house or break the rules and find him?

With trembling fingers, I compose a brief reply to Vox, my heart pounding with each keystroke. That's when I see the name he has chosen for me, making my belly fill with butterflies.

Angel : If I come, will you read to me?

I type before hesitantly pressing send. The rush of adrenaline floods my veins, mingling with the anticipation of what awaits me tonight.

Could we just have tonight, with no revelations, no pressure, just us?

I close my eyes, putting the phone on my chest like a treasure. I try to say it out loud, “Vox” training myself for him just like he did, learning some signs.

As I sit back on my desk, the phone still in my hand, I know that I’m breaking the boundaries I tried to keep up since the day I met him. I'm longing for his deep voice and his rough hands on me, knowing that in a few hours I'll sneak out of my bedroom to join him and hopefully nestle in his arms while he reads to me.

God, I didn't know I could feel this way, obsessed and curious, eager and frightened, all at the same time.

Vox.

The man I've never expected.

A dark night on a metallic beast, haunting me like the sun chases the stars at every sunrise.

Vox

Removin’ my cut on the wood bench of my entryway, I tuck my leather boots and head to the kitchen to fix myself a drink.

Been a long day, but a good one. Tried to do as much as possible to keep my mind away from the anticipation of tonight. Which ended up finishing the accounts and orders quickly enough that I got time for one more surprise visit in town to a fuckin' baby dealer who thought he could just set foot on our territory and sell like nobody's watching. Carter's toolbox provided the tools I needed to make him regret his mistake.

Blood stains mar my hands as I wash them in the sink. Hurting people gives a certain thrill but tonight, there's a different kind of anticipation coursing through me. One that has nothing to do with the usual chaos of the club.

Just wanna see my girl.

It's late. I knew I couldn't stand waiting for her, so I took a longer ride to get back home, drove through the forest and pushed my Harley to its limits, enjoying the adrenaline rush for a while before being reminded of her.

I walk to my bookshelf and reach for the book I've been reading to her, running my fingers over the familiar spine, remembering the time I read to her. How good it felt to know that she was hanging on to every word, her blue eyes widening as each new character made its way into the story.

And mostly because of how fuckin' adorable she looked then.

Sittin’ on the couch, I reach for the blanket draped over the armrest. She’s not here yet but somehow, I want things to be right for her arrival, wanting nothing more than to make her comfortable. The blanket in hand, a whiff of vanilla hits me. It's been imprinted in the wool since her last time here.

Damn.

A small knock takes my attention to the bay window.

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