Page 58 of Blood Queen

The days pass, turning into weeks, and I help him study when he’s too tired to focus. We sit on the floor, papers and books scattered between us, and I read the same passages over and over until he groans and pulls me into his lap, pressing his forehead to mine in defeat.

“This is a nightmare,” he mutters.

I smirk, running my fingers through his hair. “No, this is college.”

He exhales sharply, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. The space between us disappears. But he doesn’t kiss me—he justbreathesme in, like I’m the only thing keeping him sane.

And maybe I am.

But in the quiet moments, when I’m alone, I misshome.

I miss the trees, the sound of the wind through the leaves. I miss the way the forest smelled in the morning, how the earth felt solid beneath my feet. I miss the goats and the chickens and training.

I miss Papa. Sometimes, I wake up expecting to hear his voice, to smell the wood smoke from our cabin. But all I get is the distant hum of campus life outside the window, a world moving on without him. A world moving on without me.

And then Truman shifts beside me, his grip tightening like he knows.

Like he feels it too.

So I press closer, let his heartbeat drown out the ache, and tell myself this is enough.

I stretch my arms over my head, arching my back until I hear a satisfying pop. Truman is at his desk, flipping through his textbook, but I don’t miss the way his eyes flick toward me, sharp and distracted.

“You good?” he asks, setting his pen down.

I roll my shoulders. “Yeah, just stiff. I need to move more.”

His gaze drags over me like he’s taking inventory. “You walk all over town.” I wonder how much more kissing we can do when my body has begun screaming for more.

“It’s not the same.” I shake my head. “At home, I chopped wood, hauled water, climbed trees, ran through the forest—” My voice catches.Back home. Papa.I push past it. “Papa and I trained. I kept myself strong. Here, I feel…” I exhale through my nose, searching for the right word.

“Weak?” Truman offers.

I nod. I drop onto his bed, folding my legs under me.

“Think you could get me a gym membership in town? I Googled one. Open all hours and just has a fob to get in and out. So I don’t think they’d know if wasn’t you going?”

“You Googled?”

“Hey…” I swat at him playfully.

Truman grins and leans back in his chair, rubbing his jaw. “You wanna lift weights? Run on a treadmill?”

I shrug. “I want to feel likemeagain.”

His lips press together like he’s already turning over the logistics in his head. “I can get a membership.”

“I’ll pay.” His brows lift, amused. I fold my arms. “It’s my membership.”

He nods his head, leaning toward me until his elbows rest on his knees, his face inches from mine. His voice drops low.

“You miss being strong?”

I swallow. “Yeah.”

His fingers graze my knee. Heat floods my chest, climbing up my throat. I look away, but he catches my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. His thumb brushes my jaw. I bite my lip, and his eyes darken.

For a second, I forget about the gym.

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