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She didn’t answer me, but her eyes were wide and her breathing shallow. She swallowed, her lips parting again. Perfect, kissable lips.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll… sleep on the couch.”
She sagged visibly with relief. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“I’ll be here.”
She nodded and turned to walk into the room.
I wanted to follow her. I wanted to crawl into bed with her, wrap my arms around her. I wanted to undress her, taste her skin.
What was wrong with me?
She was human. She had no magic. She was only mortal.
But she had a power over me I couldn’t place.
A power I wanted to explore.
ChapterFive
Lorraine
Last night felt like a dream.
When I opened my eyes, I blinked in the bright light that fell through the open curtains. The wooden ceiling, the heavy sleeper wood furniture, the quilt on the bed—all was unfamiliar.
I frowned, trying to figure out where I was.
The memories of last night crashed into me like waves on the sand.
Oscar had sold me to pay off his debt.
I’d escaped his debt collectors who would have done… what would they have done to me? Sold me off to someone else, no doubt. They were human traffickers.
I’d ended up here in the forest, in a cabin with a stranger.
Terror washed over me in waves. My body ran hot and cold, and I shivered and sweated at the same time.
I sat up in bed and studied my arms and my legs. I’d had so many scrapes and cuts and bruises last night after crashing through the trees and falling onto the ground.
The scrapes were still there, but they were almost gone. The cuts looked days old, like they’d scabbed over a long time ago and were nearly healed. My bruises were nothing more than yellowed shadows of a place where the purple, mottled skin used to be.
I frowned. This was weird.
But everything since I’d been sold last night felt surreal.
If I’d woken up in my own bed this morning, I’d have thought it was just a bad dream. I still struggled to believe any of this had happened.
I rubbed my arms and climbed out from underneath the thick blankets that lay on the bed. I’d hung my robe up against the closet door last night. I still only wore the T-shirt I slept in. I pulled the robe around my shoulders and stepped out of the room.
The man who’d helped me last night wasn’t on the couch. My stomach twisted. He’d said he would stay—had he left me?
“Morning,” a deep voice said behind me, and I spun around.
In the daylight, I got a good look at him. He was delicious. Dark hair, sky-blue eyes, and skin like marble. He had sharp features, with his square jaw and a nose as straight as an arrow. His eyes were deep in their sockets, and his thick, dark brows knit together as he studied me.
“You’re here,” I breathed.
