I return it. “Both is good.”
Chapter 38
DELILAH
“Get some rest, Lilah.”
I smile up at Ben. “You too.”
He heads toward his room, and I stand in the hallway, watching him with a profound sense of relief. Our relationship might not be where it was, but after our conversation in the living room, I’m hopeful that Ben and I will be okay in the long run. There is still some lingering guilt, as well as sadness over the pain he’s experiencing. In the end, the thought of Xavier, and the way my heart sighs in my chest, forces me to accept that what I feel for him can’t be replicated with someone else.
After walking into my bedroom, I close the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment. The house is quiet with everyone in their beds, the warmth and laughter of the evening replaced with the hushed tones of night. A sense of peace washes over me at being in my old room. Although I only lived here for three years, they were some of the best in my life.
The space is simply furnished, but it doesn’t detract from the comfort and tranquility. A plush quilt covers the bed by the window, draped in moonlight and shadows from the treeoutside. On my dresser, among the neatly organized array of cosmetics, sits my cherished snow globe that I brought from the previous foster home. The room is a blend of all the pieces from my past, both good and bad.
I push from the door and head over to my suitcase which lies on the floor of the closet. Dropping into a crouch, I move the clothing and other items until my fingers make contact with cold steel. I grab the jeweled dagger Xavier gave me, enjoying the weight of it, as well as the memory it evokes.
“You said you wanted something that is a reflection of what you mean to me. Delilah, you’re my reason for living. I’m giving you this weapon to protect yourself because I can’t live without you.”
My heart does a stupid little dance in my chest, forcing a sigh from my body. I miss that asshole.
I’m not sure I needed to bring the weapon with me, not when I’m perfectly safe with Ben by my side, but after what happened with Edward Donovan, I never want to be without protection again.
Gripping the dagger’s handle, I walk over to my bed and slide it underneath my pillow. In the morning, I’ll put the weapon back in my suitcase on the off-chance Gloria decides to change my sheets or make my bed.
I quickly change into my pajamas, one of Xavier’s black t-shirts that stops mid-thigh on me. His scent envelops me, and I bite back a groan. Yup, I definitely miss him. And his body.
Turning off the lamp beside my bed, I slip under the covers, the fabric cool against my skin. I retrieve the dagger and hold it in the shafts of moonlight not blocked by the tree just outside my window. The facets of the jewels in the hilt catch and reflect the light, dazzling me.
I don’t even want to know how expensive this is. I might throw up.
As sleep begins to relax my muscles and deepen my breathing, my mind stays fixed on Xavier. His face. His voice. The way he says my name. I imagine him safe and coming back to me.
Gradually, the world around me fades away, the gentle rustle of the tree leaves, muffled on the other side of the glass, blends with the distant sounds of the night. Unlike my childhood, there are no gunshots or angry shouts. Even then, my grip on the dagger doesn’t loosen as I drift into repose. It remains under the blanket, a silent guardian.
A cold draft sweeps through the room, prickling my skin and pulling me back to the edge of consciousness.
My eyes flutter open, struggling to adjust to the dimness of the room. The curtain billows slightly from the night air, and the tiny bit of movement puts me on full alert. I sure as fuck didn’t leave the window open.
Instinctively, my hand tightens around the dagger’s handle under the blanket. Adrenaline sharpens my senses, making me fully awake. It kicks into high gear when the weight of a body presses down on me, pinning me to the bed.
Panic combines with the adrenaline and for a moment, I’m stunned by the unexpected intruder. Given the size and shape of the stranger, it’s a man. His dark hair is free, but the bottom half of his face is covered with a piece of material that’s a skull.
It’s not the mask worn by the recruits of the Order.
No more than a second passes before I part my lips to scream. He clamps a hand over my mouth, stifling the sound. My heart pounds loudly in my ears, and terror claws at my throat.
With a surge of energy, born of fear and desperation, I manage to wrest my arm free and elbow my attacker in his abdomen. He grunts, but the pressure on my chest doesn’t ease. Nor does the grip on my mouth. While he uses his other hand tograb my wrist, I swing the dagger upwards, aiming at the man’s side.
Just as the blade is about to make contact, the figure above me shifts, his reflexes quick. He catches my wrist in a punishing grip, the tip of the dagger grazing his shirt and piercing the material. His brows lift in surprise.
I glare up at him, putting every ounce of anger running through me into my stare. He leans down, adding pressure to the grip on my mouth. When I try to bite him without success, his eyes wrinkle at the corners, indicating amusement.
Now I’m royally fucking pissed.
“Not bad,” a familiar voice chides softly, the tone serious yet tinged with something that almost sounds like pride. “But not good enough, little raptor.”
Chapter 39
