I melted into him, drowning and breathing at once, his arousal hard against my stomach.
A throat cleared.
I startled, jerking slightly, but Thrax didn’t so much as twitch. He kissed me harder, ignoring the man’s presence, until he finally tore his lips from mine, both of us gasping for air. Only then did he turn his head slowly towards the repairman, who stood frozen a few feet away, speechless.
“I…sorry to bother you both.” The repairman scratched the back of his head, awkwardly gesturing at the door. “I’m done.”
Reluctantly, I peeled myself from Thrax’s warmth and walked past the man to the front of the house. My fingers brushed the smooth frame of the new door, its surface clean and modern, a perfect replacement for the shattered one. When I turned, Thrax was already speaking quietly with the man.
“Does the landlord know about this?” I asked, still running my hand over the frame. “Do you think he’s going to get pissed?”
Thrax paused mid-conversation and glanced at me. “You mean me? No, I’m not pissed.”
My brows shot up. “What?” My heart stumbled. “You bought this house? I thought you rented.”
“At first,” he replied. “It’s ours now. No one’s living here after us.”
I froze.
Ours.
He saidours.
My throat tightened, heat prickling behind my eyes as though I might cry over two simple letters. Clearing my throat, I forced lightness into my voice. “Is this you preserving our memory? I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.” I teased.
Instead of denying what I said, his dark eyes locked onto mine, a warning ringing behind them. Whatever he was thinking, it pulled at me like gravity, as though he wanted to make me regret my joke in the most dangerous—and thrilling—way possible. My chest fluttered as I stared right back, daring him and praying to the gods he followed through with whatever was going on in his head for me.
“I’m guessing you two are newly married,” the repairman chuckled, dragging us out of the trance. He looked between us, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “It’s always so sweet in the beginning.”
My lips parted to argue. “We are not—”
“How much did you say it was?” Thrax cut me off smoothly, shifting the man’s attention back to him.
I blinked at him as he conversed with the man, remembering the merchant’s cart, the same casual way he’d let that woman assume we were a couple. Shaking my head, I bit back a smile and walked inside to the kitchen.
Grabbing a glass of water, I perched on the stool, my back pressed against the counter as I sipped slowly. The quiet hum of their conversation faded until finally, the repairman packed up and left.
Thrax stood there for a moment, inspecting the new frame before closing the door, striding towards me. His steps were slow, his body impregnable even in something so ordinary as a plain long-sleeved shirt.
He was always in a coat whenever he went out, and a long-sleeved when indoors. It meant the cold still got to him one way or another even indoors.
“Do you ever feel your skin burning?”
“Yes,” he said simply, now standing in front of me. His hand plucked the cup from my fingers, and he drained the rest, his Adam’s apple shifting with each swallow. I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“So you're only alive because of the curse. The curse is what’s heating up your body to fight back the cold,” I murmured to myself, then sighed. “Are the bodies outside gone?”
He nodded once, then pointed at my hair. “You have grey streaks showing.”
My heart dropped. “What?” My hand flew up to my head, fingers tugging through my strands as horror swelled in my chest. “Really? Where?”
“Why? You want to rip it out?”
I nodded, still frantically searching.
Thrax caught my wrist, gently tugging my hand away from my head. “It’s beautiful.”
“You sound like my mother.”
