Page 35 of Shadows and Flames
I sat up slowly, letting the sheets pool around me. Slowly, I pulled my hands from beneath the covers and laid them open in my lap.
Blackened skin, nails as dark as coal. Ever since that day.
I forced an exhale, puckered my lips. And when the knot still twisted tighter, I beat against the middle of my chest. How was I meant to rebuild when there weren’t any pieces of me left? Almost all of them had died with him.
My senses picked up on Elián’s presence in the doorway, long before he made a sound. I continued my piss-poor attempt at self-soothing, running slow circles over where my heart lay.
“I have breakfast ready, my queen.”
He couldn’t—I clenched my teeth, my eyelids, each muscle, everything. When I finally opened my eyes, I had to fight to keep air flowing to my lungs.
Elián’s tattoos were on display. Dark like my marks, a written tale of his life. And his hair,goddess, it flowed about his shoulders like a gentle river. Like my favorite river near where Tana and I used to live. In Ralthas.
Locking down those memories was something I had much practice doing, but somehow, it was getting harder each time.
Elián watched me as I did, head tilted to the side as he waited. Eventually, I sent him a wan smile. But who was I trying to fool? He’d seen me at my worst. Now, as I’d descended into a mess as he revealed my hands. And then, when he’d had to bathe me while my body healed after Mathieu nearly killed me.
Rebuild.
“Thank you,” I spread my smile wider through sheer force of will, “for everything, El.”
He grunted, but it was a sound that hit me straight in the belly, warming me and feeling like home. “Come,” he said and extended a hand. Asking me to approach. To take that step.
My limbs were tight, but I forced myself from sheets that smelled like us. I crossed the small bedroom on bare feet and put my cursed hand in his. He didn’t flinch. Just closed his fingers around it and pulled me along.
The sun was shining through the small window, brightening the safehouse, but there still wasn’t much to see. Elián obviously hardly came here. Even his scent was faint, almost as resounding as mine.
What did his true home look like? At the Shadow Well? Or, did he prefer to live somewhere else?
There was so much about him that I didn’t know. That I’d denied us by telling him to leave.
I batted away more tears, chastising myself for running over the same shit again and again. You’d think my mind would run out of the energy, but the despair only fueled itself.
“Wha—” I squawked, landing on a pair of thick, steady thighs.
Elián had led us to the table, but instead of breaking apart to sit opposite of each other, he’d pulled me into his lap. His arms were like vises, holding me to him.
Not that I was going to leave.
His skin was hot, not just warm. With his shirt off, and my body clad in my undergarments from last night, the skin contact was probably as close to heaven as I’d ever be.
But, when I imagined what that might feel like, it was this—being held by him.
“Eat.” Elián held a fork in front of my mouth. His was set in a determined line, but the color in his irises was swimming, flaring.
I didn’t even look at what I was taking a bite of, just opened up and let him place the food on my tongue. The burst of flavor made me gasp. Eggs, but the preparation was nothing like what I was used to.
Some sort of flatbread, crisp and fried, crunched between my teeth, and pops of acidic tomato balanced out the flavors perfectly.
He didn’t even need to tell me to take the next bite he held in front of me. I couldn’t recall when last I ate, and my empty stomach welcomed this breakfast greedily.
And, of course, there was the expression he held, almost hypnotized by my eating. If I wasn’t devouring the food with abandon, I might’ve preened. Or teased him for taking care of me like this. I wouldn’t have believed him capable of this sort of caring, if not for the glimpses I’d caught during our last days together at the witchs’ house.
I glanced down at the plate, seeing the large serving halfway gone. Was this all the food there was? Well, of course, he probably hadn’t expected to have to prepare food for me.
I’d already taken so much from him. After everything, I drew the line at denying him a meal.
The battle to take control of the fork had his eyes flaring, the color growing brighter, but he ultimately relented. Shifting a bit in his lap, I felt the hard reminder of his erection that bothof us were ignoring. Directing my attention back to the food, I gathered egg, bread, and tomato sauce in one large morsel.
