“She’s scared too,” Dmitri said, pushing to his feet. “But she still asked for you.”
He paused at the door.
“When you’re ready, Quil… don’t make her ask twice.”
I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he held out his hand.
I nodded again. I rose to my feet without Dmitri’s proffered hand.
He walked with me down to the east wing, where her rooms were. I’d never been in her actual rooms since she’d moved into them. I’d expected there to be something of hers here, but there wasn’t.
Still, the bedding Anton had picked back when this was just an empty suite. Still, the same two rose paintings centered over her bed. Nothing of hers was here.
Fig meowed and stood, stretching before trotting down to the bottom of the bed.
Well, nothing except for Fig.
The smell was back. Muted now. But still there.
I stepped into the room. She was asleep. Hair fanned out and eyes closed, hand up on her pillow, the other draped across her middle.
She rolled over and reached for something. When I saw it, my heart skipped.
Pip.
Clutched in her hand. Feelings began to rush over me. Warm feelings. Cozy feelings. I-wanted-to-get-in-bed-and-snuggle-her-feelings.
Feelings I didn’t have.
Not until her.
I just stood there, unsure of how to proceed.
She made up my mind for me when her eyes fluttered open and she looked right at me. Green eyes searching mine. They were stark against her pale skin and dark hair.
The bond surged, sharp and aching, like it knew she was awake before I did.
“Are you coming in?” She asked, her voice low.
I didn’t know what else to do. My body moved independently, like I was controlled by her whims alone.
If that had been true, we wouldn’t be here right now.
“I don’t know if I should be here.”
“I want you here.”
“Yeah, but…”
Her face softened, and she held out her hand to me. I forced it, but I stayed put. Didn’t go running to her like the frightened little animal I was. “Quil. I’m not mad at you. Not upset either.”