Page 87 of Bitten & Burned
I removed my shirt and dropped it on the floor. Likewise with my boots and socks. I left my trousers on and climbed into the bed with her.
I slid in beside her. Careful not to jostle her. Like she was fragile.
But she wasn’t.
She curled into my chest the moment I was close enough. She sighed. Long and slow. Like she was sinking back into something perfect. Something comfortable. Something we’d never had and that I didn’t deserve. But I liked it anyway.
Besides, she deserved it.
And I wasn’t about to say “no” to anything she wanted at this point.
Her hand smoothed up over my chest. Over my heart. My heart that hadn’t beat properly in nearly thirty years.
Didn’t matter.
She was my heart now.
Thirteen
A GODSDAMNED CATASTROPHE
Serpentine Bay, Euraline, Verdune
20 Ebry, Year 810
Quil had looked so…emptied out when I’d left him that morning.
The sea breeze blew my hair, tickling my back as I gazed out over the water. Fig curled around my legs, meowing up at me. I knelt to scratch between his ears. He meowed again and trundled off, running down the deck stairs to one of the lower levels and causing a metallic crash and a few swear words from the crew member he’d run into.
I wondered if I should have stayed longer with Quil or woken him up to say goodbye.
Quil had spent the last three nights in my bed. At my insistence. We’d spent them wrapped up in one another like we were the last two people in the world, barely moving, barely breathing. He stayed up, and I remained awake for as long as I could before falling asleep. We didn’t talk much and practically ignored each other when not in bed, but it had sort of become a pattern for us.
And then Anton had invited me out on his yacht,La Lune Rouge.
He’d asked me over a sweet dessert wine he’d chosen to go with the choux buns he’d baked for me. He looked his usual, devil-may-care self, but I could see the tension roiling in his eyes.
He hadn’t been quite the same since he and Vael had ‘argued’. I felt it was more than a mere argument if one came away the way those two had: with bruised egos and tremors in their hands.
And so, I thought,yes. We both could use an excursion, a distraction.
I’d agreed. And he’d looked so happy. He’d kissed my hand, promised me a wonderful weekend, and then he’d gone off to pack.
I felt good about it, excited and giddy, even.
But a small pit had hollowed in my stomach when I thought about telling Quil. Not fear. Just… apprehension. He’d only just opened up to me, and I was about to spring this on him.
But Anton’s words echoed in my head, sharp as the sea air:Stop bleeding yourself dry to make him whole.He’d been talking about Vael, but I felt the same could be applied to all of them.
The soft click of a door opening behind me, light footsteps on teak. The scent of warm tea—bergamot and lemon, cut with cream.
Anton.
He paused, looking down as Fig ran up the stairs again, between his legs. “Gods, what—” The teacup jiggled in his hands, the porcelain clinking as my cat took off down the deck.
“He’s certainly having fun,” Anton mused. “Odd little thing, your Fig.”
I chuckled. “He’s never been on a boat before. He loves it.”
