Page 87 of A Kiss From Death
Hade flew us back to Lunaria early this morning, as duty called his attention. I about doubled over when I saw a dainty flower and radiant sun charms sitting on my bed with a note that read,To add to your bracelet of love. A placeholder for Rayah and Theo to have with me forever, right next to Hudson’s paintbrush charm. I have no idea when he had time to have them made, but it’s one of the most thoughtful things I’ve ever been given, right next to Theo’s dagger necklace guarding my heart.
It was exhilarating getting a real look under Hade’s skin, unraveling the story etched beneath it, even if it was only bits and pieces. These charms are another look into his heart.
Forced to leave our cushy little bubble this morning was harder than I thought, and it makes me wonder what lies ahead. Will we go back to stolen looks and lust buried beneath a façade of hate and loathing? Will he continue to keep his distance like it’s painful to be near me? Will he think of me when he’s alone in his room? Or was yesterday just a blip in time, never to surface again? Time will only tell, and for now, I need to keep relying on myself and only myself to make it through another day up here in hell.
My morning run has seeped through every inch of my body, grounding me again. I live for the quiet, peaceful mornings when the city still sleeps before it explodes to life. Now, with the sun fully risen, the city is thrumming as I slip down a back alley, weaving through the chaotic crowd. Magic pushes at me from every angle, brushing up against my skin like I can reach out and grasp it.
I finally spot the glowing orb radiating under the warm sun, and I silently rush through the crowd to slip through the door, the soft bell chiming above me, announcing my arrival.
A calmness flows through me, same as it does every time I step foot in here. It’s extra calm in here today, only a few patrons lounging in chairs in the corner, reading and basking in the sun streaming through the stained glass.
A giant gasp draws my attention, and I can’t help but smile. “Well, c’mon, sugar. Get over here so I can give you a proper greeting.”
A small laugh leaves my lips as I stride over to Mo, the owner of Knead It. She encases me in her arms, squeezing me to her chest until my face is pressed snugly in her cleavage. Her sweet smell of cinnamon sugar floods my nose, and I relax in her hold like a child would in a mother’s embrace.
“Where have you been, sugar?” she scolds me like a child. “It’s been ages since you’ve paid me a visit.”
She unwraps her arms from me, planting her hands on each of my shoulders as she looks me over for injuries. “You look justfine… Maybe even more than fine.” She shoots me a little smirk that cracks my walls. “What’s got your skin glowing and cheeks rosier than ever?”
My cheeks flush under her scrutiny, and I try to turn away, but she holds me steady.
Busted.
“I know you enjoy those cute little romance novels, but you’ve never radiated this bright before,” she states knowingly.
I bat her hand away and try to sound unaffected, like my heart isn’t plastered right on my sleeve for her to see. “It’s nothing,” I say under my breath, walking to the pastry counter. Mo follows, rounding the counter with raised eyebrows.
She points to my chest with a gleam in her eyes. “That blush creepin’ up your chest is not nothing.” She draws out her words with a rich accent that feels like a warm hug. “That blush tells a story of stolen kisses and passion words could never convey,” she purrs. She pins me with a stare, waiting for me to crack like I always do for her and only her.
“There may have been a kiss involved,” I admit sheepishly.
“I knew it!” she gushes, a giant smile taking over her face. “I need all the details. Just one kiss, or a night full?” she questions, right before her eyes light up. “Wait, was it on the lips?” Her eyes narrow on me expectedly, and I let out a loud, dramatic gasp.
“That’s all the details you’re getting!” I throw her a scolding look, but she knows it’s all show as she waves her hands at me in defeat.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Then you’re gonna tell me why you’ve been gone for so long. The strawbana bread has piled up in your absence.”
I chew my lip nervously as I’m brought back to the night that flipped me on my axis, slightly more than I already was. I feel a phantom ache in my side and grab it instinctually. Mo tracks the movement, and her eyes darken uncharacteristically.
“What happened, sugar?” she presses, deadly serious, concern etched across her brows.
I think carefully, deciding how I want to phrase my next words. “I was injured and had to take some days to rest,” I say carefully.
“Exactly how did this injury come about?” she presses.
“It was really nothing,” I say under my breath, downplaying the events. “Look, I’m totally fine.” I do a spin, showing off my good health.
“Nothing?” She scoffs. “I haven’t seen you in around a week. You’re more addicted to my bread than you are to those silly little romance novels, so I know you wouldn’t have missed getting them for just ‘nothing’.”
Double busted.
I let out a loud sigh as she plants her hands on her hips, waiting for my response. This woman is more persistent than Winston searching the castle for oranges. She raises her eyebrows at me in question, and I crumble beneath her hard gaze.
“I may have gotten a small cut on my side that required some down time,” I mumble under my breath quickly, hoping she takes the information I’ve given as satisfactory.
“What created this so-called ‘small cut’?” She makes air quotes, looking totally unimpressed with my explanation.
I bring my hands up to my face, trying to hide from her. Peeking out between my fingers, I squeak, “A dagger.”
