Page 46 of Saved By the Headless Horseman
“It’s too early,” he grumbles, before lowering his arm.
I was wrong.He’s not exactly how he was.Krane is taller—the same height he was as the Headless Horseman, and with the same impressive build.His ears are sharper than those of a human man.When he finally blinks his sleepy eyes open at me, I can’t suppress my gasp.
Green flames comprise his irises.They snap and dance around his dark pupil.It is a breathtaking sight.His lips tug into a grin as he stretches out beside me on the grass.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”Rising into a sitting position, he shakes his head.“I had the strangest dream.”
“Krane.”
“Somehow, I had a pumpkin for a head.We shouldn’t sneak wine from your father’s cellar anymore, Scar.”
“Krane,” I snap.“That wasn’t a dream.”
His dark brows lower.
“What are you talking about?Of course it was?—”
He pauses.With widening eyes, he looks at me, really looks at me.He takes me in from head to toe, eyes lingering on the front of my gown—the crimson stain unmistakable in the morning sun.With a gasp, he looks at his hands.His long fingers end in short nails with freckles along his knuckles.He takes stock of himself, patting his chest and face.Raking a hand through his hair, the flames in his eyes blaze.
Removing his coat, he holds up one of the sparkling buttons to get a better look.Shaking his head, he grips the garment in his fingers.
“I’m me again,” he whispers hoarsely.
“Almost.The eyes are a bit strange.”I pause.“As are your sharp fangs and pointed ears.”
“Beats a pumpkin head,” Krane says.“How can this be?”
There is a predatory grace to his movements.The primal edge he had remains.He is human—and yet not.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
His eyes drift to the stain on my gown.Reaching towards me, he gently presses a warm palm to my abdomen.With a shuddering breath, he meets my eyes.
“I watched you die, Scarlett.How are you here, too?”
“Maybe we’re in heaven,” I suggest.
Seems like a logical enough answer.
“I’m not so sure about that.”Rising onto his long legs, he reaches down to help me to my feet.“Only one way to find out.”
We make the short journey back towards Crow’s Claw Manor.The sight of a smoldering home collapsing in on itself is all the confirmation we both need.We aren’t in heaven.That horrible house would be in neither one of ours.
I glance up at him, pink spreading along his cheeks.
“When you got shot, I lost it.My power consumed me and eradicated everyone inside the house.”Green flames spark from his palms at the memory.“Well, that’s something.”
I hear his words for what they are.There are no survivors.My parents are both dead, and I don’t have it in me to grieve.We were not a loving family—they would’ve trapped me in a horrible marriage and denied me my one true happiness.May they rot where they lie.
“Where should we go now?”I ask, the wind tugging at my hair.
The sun shines from behind the dense clouds.The first sunny day in over a month makes goosebumps erupt on my flesh.Krane plays with his green flames, letting them dance between his fingers.Twisting his lips, he waves his hand, and my ruined gown is replaced with a pale pink frock.He does the same to his own clothes, transforming them into a simple satin shirt and pants.A thick cloak drapes around his shoulders.
“Back to Nightingale Castle?”he suggests.
A mischievous smile curves his lips as he hooks an arm around my waist.I go to him willingly, a long-overdue homecoming.He’s even taller than me now.I have to crane my neck back to meet his gaze.The feel of his heartbeat echoes my own.
“I want to celebrate your return to life the best way I know how.”His lips find my ear.“Want to put my new tongue to use on your sweet cunt.”
