Page 21 of Sophie's Ruin
10
Awarm breeze whispered through the meadow, stirring my unbound hair, the soft strands tickling my shoulders and my back. I was sitting cross-legged on a blue-and-white blanket, my hands folded in my lap, and my face turned up to the clear, cerulean sky. Even with my eyes closed, I knew that colors surrounded me. Everything was bright—the sun, the sky, the grass. Even the dress I was wearing had splashes of yellow and pink.
My ears vibrated with sound, picking up on the swishing of grass and rustling of flower petals. Animals scampered around as the humming of insects and the trilling of birds filled the air. Inhaling deeply, I soaked up the heady, sweet aroma of the wild grasses mixed with the soothing floral notes and the smell of the warm earth underneath. The most alluring scent, however, the fresh and woodsy one, was coming from my right. With a soft exhale of contentment, I opened my eyes and looked at Henry lying on the blanket beside me.
Watching me from beneath his thick, black lashes, he looked carefree, his arms folded behind his head and his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. Barefoot, he was wearing casual brown pants and a white shirt that wasunbuttoned at the top, revealing a part of his chest. My fingertips itched with the need to touch it. Everything about him was relaxed; even his hair, which he usually slicked back from his face, was tousled, brushing the top of his forehead.
“Enjoying the sunshine?” he drawled, not taking his eyes off me.
His gaze roamed over my face, taking in every tiny detail as if he were trying to get it etched into his memory.
“I am. Enjoying the view?” I teased, arching a brow.
“I am,” he replied, one side of his mouth turning up. “You are always breathtakingly beautiful, but especially here and now when you look so…peaceful. It fills my heart with joy.”
“I do like it here,” I said, looking around the open, bright-green field spotted with wildflowers.
“I like it anywhere as long as I’m with you.” Henry’s smile grew as he sat up, bringing his face closer to mine.
Sunlight danced on his striking features, glancing off the calm blue waters of his eyes. There was something different about him, and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. His skin was sun-kissed, not pale. It was a faint golden hue, and my breath caught as I stared at him.
“What is it?” he asked, his smile burning brighter.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathed, reaching up to trace his cheekbone with my fingertips.
“I’m yours,” was all he said, as he turned his face into my palm and placed a soft kiss there.
The sweet gesture did something to me, and when he turned his face to look at me again, I clasped the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to mine. His lips parted, and a low, rough sound left him as he kissed me back, his fingers sinking into my hair. The taste of him lit up my senses, instantly driving me wild. I lifted my other hand to where his shirt parted and rakedmy nails down his chest, eliciting another rough growl from him that heated my blood.
He lessened the pressure of the kiss, nipping on my lower lip before skimming his mouth down my neck to where my pulse thrummed just below the surface of my skin. The scrape of his fangs over the sensitive spot dragged a breathy moan from me, making me desperate for him as a wave of sharp, acute desire rolled through me. I pushed on his chest to bring him to the ground so I could straddle him, but he resisted, lowering me down instead.
When my back hit the blanket, he hovered over me, his eyes now black and consumed by hunger—not hunger for blood, but for me. My breathing quickened as I stared up at him, my heart swelling with emotion. I ached for him, and I knew he ached for me, too. I could feel it where he was settled between my thighs. He rolled his hips, and we both groaned, his hardness pressing into my softness. I couldn’t wait to have him, to feel him inside me, but I needed to do something first. I needed to tell him. He had to know.
“Henry, I?—”
My eyes flew open as I woke with a jolt, my gaze fixing on the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling.
Just a dream,I thought with a sinking heart.
Potent sadness and disappointment washed over me, pressing me deeper into the mattress, threatening to crush me under their weight. Swallowing thickly, I lifted a trembling hand to my mouth, brushing my fingertips over my lips, which still tingled from Henry’s kisses. My breasts felt heavy and sensitive, and a dull ache still throbbed between my thighs from what I’d experienced in the dream. If only the bucolic meadow had been real…but that idyllic setting was not my reality. In this reality, Henry was captured and tortured, and I couldn’t do anything about it.
Not yet,I thought with a surge of determination.
When I sat up in the bed, the book Amelie had given me slid off my chest. I must have fallen asleep reading it last night. The young witch had been right—the text was archaic, and I had difficulty interpreting it at times, but the outdated words were still a gift, and it was still a book, which was a beauty in and of itself. The story was one of love and hope, and my lips curved up when I thought about how Rory would have enjoyed it.
My smile fell as my mind went back to the dream. Henry and I had been basking in the sun in it. What a cruel joke—my mind showing me things that could never be. I couldn’t bring myself to be upset about it, though. Not when I’d gotten to spend some time with Henry, to feel his lips on mine. The experience had only been in my imagination, but it would have to do until I could hold him in my arms again and make the dream a reality.
Setting Amelie’s book to the side, I looked around the small room bathed in the warm glow of the oil lamp sitting on top of the rustic bedside table. I’d claimed the only spare bedroom at Celeste’s house for myself after Waylon and the others had decided to stay in the village. A couple of the White Witches had opened their homes to them for however long we’d have to stay. I’d remained here, wanting to be close to Celeste since she was going to train me how to use my magic.
This wasn’t the first time I’d stayed in this room, of course. Henry had brought me here after he’d saved me from the Dark Witches two weeks ago. My heart squeezed at the memory as my gaze landed on the nearby chair. Henry had sat in it when I’d regained consciousness that night. He’d saved me then; it was my turn to save him now.
Clenching my jaw with resolve, I left the bed and quickly washed up, using the pail of water I’d fetched into the room last night. The cold liquid prickled my skin, but I welcomed the sensation, letting it douse the remnants of desire sparked bythe dream. I dried off the best I could using a thin, scratchy towel, and picked a purple tunic and black pants from the stack of clothes sitting on the chair. They’d been donated to me by a few of the witches. The clothes’ material was rough, irritating my sensitive vampire skin, but I knew better than to complain. Celeste and the others had taken us in, and I was grateful for that. I just hoped we wouldn’t have to stay long. The locket with my mother’s portrait rested on top of the folded clothes, and I lifted it up and put it around my neck, tucking it under the collar.
Anxiety surfaced as I stepped into my boots and reached up to tie my hair at the nape of my neck, using a thin leather strip. I couldn’t wait to work on my magic. Yesterday had been a failed attempt but I hoped to make up for it today. My gaze flicked to the table by the bed, to the Tear sitting atop it. The pale-blue crystal still glowed in the heart of the amulet, reflecting in the dull glass of the oil lamp beside it. My head tilted to the side as I stared at the pulsing light, lost in thought. My ancestors had created the amulet. Did I possess the power to forge magical objects? That was a question for Celeste, so I darted to the table and grabbed the amulet before sweeping from the room.
11
Apleasant herbal aroma climbed up my nostrils as soon as I left the bedroom, and I followed it to the kitchen, where I found Celeste sipping tea at the table.
