Page 83 of Toward Immortal Ruin

Turning her attention toward the darkness outside of the sliding glass doors, she filled her lungs with courage and turned to Nero. He was already two steps ahead of her.

“Shall we, Eden? Nina?”

Chapter Thirty-One

An itch was scrubbingagainst Nero’s psychic senses. Pinpricks of sensation swelled along his clan’s borders, tripping his internal alarms and alerting him to the presence ofsomethingskirting his sight. Despite teleporting to the spots of interest multiple times—and having his lieutenants do the same—nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary.

It was the only outlier to the serenity he’d found tonight. Nero realized he’d never been quite this happy before. His mate had woken up after battling for her life—and she’d bewell. She’d lived through her transition and now, they would be together without the threat of a mortal death.

He finally had his blissful happiness. And it would be shared with Eden.

From the moment she’d risen, Nina, Eden, and Nero had walked the paths of his sanctuary, discussing what her new immortal life would bring. Eden’s inner scholar had taken the driver’s seat, revealing how much she truly knew about lore and mythology. Though Nero had thought himself something of an academic himself, his mate put him to shame.

As dawn slowly rose on the horizon, they made their way back home.

Sensing their need to be alone, Nina wandered over to perch quietly on the couch in the living room. Nero knew that she would remain close as Eden walked into the first season of her immortal life. The sire-fledgling relationship was complicated, as he had learned, and the juvenile would depend upon their sire for years before truly feeling confident in their own immortal skin.

The sky had begun to lighten, and Nero could sense Eden’s pull toward slumber as dawn rose.

“Will you be here waiting for me when I wake up?”

Eden nuzzled into his shoulder as he ascended the stairs with her in his arms, happy to play caretaker. “Every single night. I’m never going to leave you.”

“You drew me again,” Eden said, her words muffled against his shirt.

He nodded. “It’s my favorite pastime. At first, it was because I yearned for you with everything I was. Now, it’s because I can’t get enough of you, Eden. Every time I see you, the artistic urge takes over. I want to capture you—exactly as you are—and I don’t see that ever changing.”

Eden’s eyelids were already shutting as Nero gently laid her on top of the sheets and pulled the covers over her body. Hesitantly, he grabbed the sketch from the pad in the corner of the room, placing it in her outstretched hand while she studied it, smiling through her tiredness.

It depicted her sleeping soundly while she made the transition from mortal to immortal. It was nearly finished; Nero had had multiple hours to work on it while his mind fretted and his anxious energy needed an output.

“Do you ever sketch because you’re bored or anxious?” Tucking her head into the pillow, Eden yawned, and he placed the sketch on the nightstand.

He considered her words. “Both, perhaps: an idle way to spend time, or a retreat. It’s always been my reprieve from the world, and if I don’t have a pencil in my hand, then I’m imagining the strokes, planning the shading.” He smiled then, the expression full of affection. “I enjoy it. Come on, let’s tuck you in, Sleeping Beauty.”

“I’m Belle tonight.”

And then she was asleep.

The press of a button blacked out the windows and any sunlight that might disturb her sleep. Nero pressed another kiss into Eden’s cheek, savoring the closeness and the sweet smell of peony that still clung to her skin.

Over the course of the last twenty-four hours, he’d gone through turmoil he hadn’t been prepared for. Eden’s life had hung in the balance while a battle was fought within her body, one with which he couldn’t aid her.

Everything about her transition had been out of his hands. It’d reminded him of how little he’d been able to assist, and how much his friends and clansmen had shouldered the burden that’d been meant to be his alone.

Nina had given them both a gift Nero couldn’t ever repay: the life of his mate.

As he strode downstairs, pondering how he could begin to express his gratitude, his friend looked up at him.

“You’ve done well, Nero.”

An almost scathing laugh rumbled from his throat. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Settling onto the recliner across from Nina, he relaxed into the familiarity of their relationship. They’d been companions for centuries—and seen each other through awful trials. Nothingwould ever change their friendship, but he knew he had something to apologize for.

“I’m sorry I was short with you, Nina,” he admitted. “Before. When I said you owed me.”

She frowned. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

---