Page 111 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

I wake once when Drew comes into the café and the wards flare to warn me that someone else is here. His footsteps are quiet on the stairs, and I hear him set down a bag just outside the door before he retreats back down and into the kitchen.

Dante is still in my arms, sleeping peacefully. When I close my eyes, I fall asleep again too.

The next time I wake, the room is dark except for light spilling in from the streetlamps outside. Dante rubs his nose against my throat and mumbles something. I run my hand up his back and squeeze the nape of his neck.

“You’re awake?” he murmurs.

“Just.” I sigh when Dante makes no move to get up; he shifts into a better position to lean against me. “Sleep well?”

He hums contentedly. His T-shirt has ridden up a little, so when I move my hand to his waist, I touch warm skin. Dante sighs.

“What are we doing?” he asks.

“Right now?”

“Lark.”

“I need to be clear about what you are asking,” I say, and Dante tips his head back to look at me.

“Oh. Sorry. I mean… The bond. It feels stronger than before.”

“Yes.”

“Does that… Do you want that?”

I am almost incredulous that he is asking the question, but then a return to our normal lives—even with the new task that stretches ahead of us—will throw what we have learnt about ourselves and each other over the past few days into disarray. I shuffle down a little until our faces are on the same level and we are sharing a pillow.

“I want you,” I say. “All of you. I want the bond, and I want to spend time with you and have you fall in love with me just as—”

I cannot say the rest. Not physically—it is not a lie. I do not know that Dante is ready to hear it. I do not know if it is fair, just as it was unfair of me to announce he was my soulbond four days ago without giving him any hint of it at all.

He knows what I mean to say. His eyes go wide and colour darkens his cheeks. “Lark.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I’ve always wanted you.” At my raised eyebrows, he smiles. “Well, for the past… however many years. But yeah, the sensible part of me is saying that I don’t know you as well as I think I do.”

No one is to blame for that but me. “How do you want to go about this?”

“I don’t know.” Dante sighs. “We have to find the crownbearers. But what if we can’t? I don’t want to spend my last few months regretting… anything. And I don’t—I don’t know if the anger and the hurt are entirely gone, you know?”

I wonder if I should draw my hands back, but I fear that if I stop touching him now, I will fall apart, too. “I am sorry,” I murmur. “I thought what I did was right. I saw what happened with Ronan and Iagan, and I thought it would be better to take my time.”

“Yeah, I know. I understand that better than I did before, I think.”

“We could… go on dates,” I say. “When we are not searching with the others. I could buy you flowers.”

Dante laughs. Not unkindly; the laugh is soft, and his eyes are wet. “That sounds nice.” He touches me now, running his fingers over the T-shirt I am wearing, in deference to making him feel more comfortable. “We could go to a botanical garden. Talk to all the plants.”

“That sounds nice, too.”

“Okay. Dates. Not moving in together tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Will you stay over often?” I want him in my bed all the time now. Despite it all, I have never slept so well as the past few days.

Dante smiles. “Twice a week?”

“Five times.”