He’s all chestnut brown skin, plush lips and curls that spill over his forehead, and onto his slim shoulders. Now I’m closer I can make out all the colours of his hair; the deep burgundy and ambers that merge into black.
The wound on his neck slowly stops bleeding, but already has begun to bruise a harsh purple. I’ll fix that, too. I’ll fix everything.
Rurik curses. “Brother, I didn’t see. I’m sorry.”
“All I care about is that he's alive.” His cheeks are pillow soft.
So beautiful, they’re always so heartbreakingly beautiful.
“He’s your mate reborn.”
And I curl my body around his to keep him safe from every evil in this world.
Chapter Five - Golden
To say I wake up with a headache is the understatement of the fucking century. I’m also starving and thirsty, which is normal so I brush that aside because I’m laying in the softest bed known to man.
And I lived in an Ikea for five days before anyone noticed, so I know a thing or two about soft beds.
The sheets are clean and my face is either buried in a magic pillow, or I’ve died and somehow made my way to heaven. Either way, I’m staying right here.
That is until I remember monsters are real and one bit me. Shooting up, I slap my hand on my neck and wince. My neck aches, pain radiating off where I was bitten.
Shit. Do I need to get an STD test?
I’m glad the lights are off, as even in this soft darkness my head’s thumping. A wave of dizziness hits, nausea rolling in my stomach, so I slump back into the pillows. If heaven was real surely I wouldn’t be feeling this rubbish.
Not knowing where I am isn’t unusual for me, but not knowing how I got there is. Especially in a place so out of my price range. Once the sickness passes, and I’ve breathed in enough fancy sheet magic to increase my tax code, I pull myself slowly up and drop my foot to the—
“Whoa, who knew carpet could be that soft? Fancy.”
“You’re awake.”
I’ve never understood the saying ‘I jumped out of my skin’ until this very moment. A scream—so high I’m surprised glass doesn’t shatter—hurls out of me with enough force I knock myself back into the bed, ankles tangling in the sheets.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I fight my way out of the sheet, huffing as I sit up on my knees to glare at where the voice came from.
“Dude, you’re sitting in the bloody darkness and watching me sleep! How is that not horror movie type shit?”
A man stands, coming close enough for me to make out his features and, well…damn.
“Fuck, you’re kinda sexy, you know that?”
Apparently I’ll never grow a filter, but he doesn't seem to mind and chuckles low. That sound does strange things to my, well, everything. But there’s also something familiar about him.
“Have we met before?” I ask, frowning, trying to place where I might’ve seen him. “I know you…”
He’s white, but the warm kind—like he’s from somewhere in the Mediterranean—with a strong nose and dark brows. His thick, brown hair frames a face so handsome I want to understand it from every angle. But it’s his stormy blue eyes that are like a lightning strike.
And his mouth…I want to lean into it. Trace my tongue along his lips and taste the heat inside. Feel the roughness of his stubble against my smooth skin. Discover how we’re different, and the same, in every intimate way.
He’s standing in front of me now, so tall I have to sit back on my knees and look up. I feel like I could float away.
No, that isn’t right.
More like, it would be okay to float away. Finally, I’m safe in those big hands reaching for me. In those eyes that burn with an intensity I should run from, but never will. And when his palms cup my cheeks, I can’t stop the little moan that escapes. They’re not soft, but gentler than I expected, and each long finger curls around my chin. His thumb brushing my cheeks.