Chapter 40
DELILAH
Iblink awake, the first tendrils of morning light blinding me. For a moment, I lie still, nestled under the warm blankets, my mind foggy with sleep. The mental images from last night, of Xavier breaking into my room, our confrontation, and the intense moments that followed, all feel like a vivid dream. A really freaking sexy one. But unreal.
With a groan, I sit up to look at my pillow. A dark stain mars the white pillowcase, an unmistakable blotch of dried blood where Xavier had lain when I’d accidentally cut him with the dagger.
The sight jolts me fully awake, a sharp, breath-stealing reminder that it wasn’t a dream. All of it really happened. The danger, the fear, the adrenaline, and then... us, together, the raw, carnal fucking that followed. As well as the tender, whispered words from him lulling me to sleep.
Xavier was here.
He had come to protect me, to test me, and in the end, to be with me. But now, the bed is empty, the space beside me cold. Where did he go after I passed out? Where did he sleep, if not here with me?
Climbing out of bed, I wrap a robe around myself and pad across the room to the window, peering out into the breaking day. The quiet, peaceful street offers no clues, no sign of Xavier or the night’s events.
Is he coming back? Or was last night just a quick reunion before he returned to whatever summons the Order assigned him?
I turn away from the window, my gaze falling on the small, bloody stain again. It’s real. That much is undeniable. I reach for my phone, half-expecting, half-hoping for a message from him. But the screen remains dark, devoid of new notifications.
With a sigh, I set my phone on the dresser, hide the dagger in my suitcase, and strip the pillowcase from the pillow. If I can get the stain out of it without Gloria finding out, it’ll be a miracle. That woman might be the sweetest person to walk the earth, but she is perceptive in a way that’s unnerving.
I freshen up in the bathroom before grabbing the pillowcase, wadding it up, and heading downstairs. On my way to the kitchen, I put the material in the washing machine and turn it on. The delicious aroma of coffee brewing and the sizzle of bacon pulls me forward. The familiar sounds of breakfast preparation mingle with Gloria’s gentle humming.
As I round the corner, I find her in front of the stove, flipping strips of bacon. She moves between the skillet and the countertop, a set of tongs in one hand and a coffee pot in the other.
“Good morning, Delilah,” she greets without turning around. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m making enough to feed an army.”
“Good morning, Gloria. I’m always hungry.” I make my way over to her and take the coffee pot from her hand. “It smells amazing in here.”
She finally turns to look at me, her gaze scrutinizing. “Is your head okay?”
I scrunch my face in confusion until it dawns on me that hitting my head was what I lied about last night. “Oh, it’s fine. Thanks. It was stupid really. I must’ve been dreaming really hard.”
“Very hard, from the sound of it.”
If she heard Xavier fucking me, I will literally die from embarrassment.
I will myself not to blush, but it doesn’t work. Before she catches my cheeks turning red, I walk away and open a cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug. Then I busy myself with pouring coffee and adding creamer, using the time to compose myself.
When I’m sure I can face her without looking guilty, I turn back around. And almost drop my coffee cup.
Xavier walks into the room, holding a bag of sugar. “Is this the size you wanted, Gloria?”
My foster mother waves him over. “Yes, that’s perfect. Set it on the counter, dear.”
Xavier? Dear? What alternate universe am I in?
I pinch myself, hard enough for it to really sting, but the image in front of me doesn’t disappear. Xavier stands there, dressed in his customary black from head to toe, looking sinfully delicious and so out of place. The only thing that’s changed is the addition of a band-aid on his neck where I cut him.
“Don’t be rude, Delilah,” Gloria says. “Say good morning to our guest. Xavier rode all the way here to spend the day with the family. The least you can do is be polite to your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” I repeat stupidly, my brain still unable to comprehend what’s happening right before my eyes.
Xavier flashes me a grin that’s all mischief as he walks up to me. “Good morning, beautiful.”
He slides his hand into my messy bun to grip the back of my head and pulls me toward him for a kiss. My brain goes on tilt when his lips brush mine. It’s over before I can react and kisshim back. Or be embarrassed because my foster mother is in the room with us.
“What in the hell is going on?” I ask him.
