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Last night was not a dream.
I never meant to fall asleep caged between his thigh with my head in his lap. But it’s so comfortable and safe here. Rousing myself from the position and detangling my hair from his fingers is quite a challenge. I ease myself from him eventually.
I take the moment to admire my husband. His body is slacked and relaxed from sleep. A diary from a famous vampire hunter once wrote that vampires are most vulnerable in this state. People would take the opportunity to stake and burn them during the dawn when they were at their weakest.
Everything about Svenn feels raw and ethereal. I don’t know how he remains devastatingly beautiful and lethal even when he’s sleeping.
I wave my hand to check if he’s awake.
There’s just something about watching this wild, powerful man so peaceful in his slumber. I trace the column of his throat to his jaw and plant my lips right above his pulse.
Guilt gathers in my heart for what I just did. Taking advantage of a man while he’s asleep. I have dropped into a new low.
But this is our first night in the same bed together since the wedding. I can’t believe he stayed with me all night.
Warmth starts to seep into my heart and my bones. I touch my chest to calm the humming I feel there.
I’m scared.
This gentle side of him… I’m starting to like this too much.
Walls of bricks, not of straw.
I place the blanket over his chest to keep him comfortable and slip out of bed.
Quietly, I dress up and put on the heavy gray cloak Lenna left for me yesterday. I take one last look at Svenn’s sleeping form before leaving the room.
I evade Wesley’s guard and my knight easily, rushing straight towards one of the Wiolant’s safe houses where Rainer is staying.
The mansion is even more grand than the lord of the city’s keep, with a well-kept garden and a beautiful fountain in the courtyard. It’s quiet, other than the soft chirping of birds and croaking of pond frogs.
There is no sentry at the gates.
I sneak inside without fuss. A flurry of shivers goes through me the moment I see a shadowed figure on one of the tree branches.
It’s not moving…
I dare a step closer and recognize the demonic mask.
“Shade, come down,” I plead desperately. “I need to tell you something.”
The grey-haired male lands directly beside me, startling me a little. “What is it?”
He is dressed in his dark Grimbane’s long sleeve coat over a dark weatherworn jerkin. His gray hair is disheveled as if he’d been sleeping.
I pour my heart out and tell him everything that had happened yesterday, the gnome, the boar, Svenn’s intention. Shade listens to my story without interruption.
The assassin maintains his calm and detached demeanor despite my revelation. I wonder if he missed the part where I said Carver’s life is in danger.
“So, you see, my husband is going to kill your friend,” I repeat for clarity, emphasizing by my hand with a stabbing sign.
Shade shrugs. “Carver is not a friend.”
His lack of interest scares me. “Please do something. Hide him or send him away. I’m not playing around.”
Shade’s expression remains unreadable. “Perhaps it’s for the best. The guy is a dead elf anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
