“Good morning,” he called out. “Seems like we both slept in a little later than usual.”
His voice was raspy and thick with sleep, his words slow and deliberate, as if he savoured each and every one. It was the same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in her ear for hours on end, the same voice that carried the weight of love and desire, the same huskiness that made Adriana’s toes curl. Xander’s voice was still the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
“What’s so funny?” she asked at the sound of his soft chuckle.
Xander shook his head, picking up the mugs and turning round to her, “Nothing, it’s just nice to know that…”
He stopped as his eyes drank in her appearance. Adriana noticed his grip on the mugs tightened as he stared at her from across the kitchen.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head slightly as he replaced his shock with his usual mask of calmness and handed her one of the mugs of coffee. She thanked him and took a sip, humming at the bitterness on her tongue as she sat on the sofa and tucked her legs to the side. It seemed to help subside the burn in her throat, but she knew it was only a matter of time until her bloodlust would appear. They had run out of bottles two days ago, but it wasn't the bottled blood she wanted. She needed to feed. Properly.
“Didn’t feel like wearing your own clothes today?”
Adriana looked up to see Xander leaning back against the counter, one hand gripping onto the side as if he was struggling to hold himself up or, most likely, to hold himself back. His eyes continued to roam her body as he brought his mug to his lips.
She smirked to herself, listening to the sound of Xander’s rapidly increasing heart rate. “I wanted something a bit more comfortable. I didn’t think you’d complain.”
“Believe me, I’m not.”
They sat in silence for a while, just staring at one another. She noticed his clothes were crumpled, his curly hair was messy with sleep, his feet bare as one of them tapped on the stone slabs of the kitchen floor. His eyes had brightened over the last few days, he didn’t look as tired, despite how uncomfortable the sofa looked to sleep on and the fact she hadn’t seen him drink anywhere near as much blood as she had. He’d shaved a couple of times since they’d arrived, but his beard was longer than usual again. He looked relaxed, at ease, and, rather reluctantly, she thought he looked gorgeous.
“If only you could readmymind,” he murmured, as he drank his coffee.
Adriana stiffened. No, he hadn’t given her that gift, he’d only given her his darkness.
She stared at the woods outside the kitchen window that faced away from the lake. She knew the stable barn had been behind those trees, the same barn that she had frequently visited to see Jonathon before it had become her hiding spot with Xander.
She had never forgotten him, she couldn’t. Not just because they’d been friends throughout their childhood, but because he was her first kill. Jonathon’s was the first blood she had tasted as a Lamia. His was the first life she had stolen.
There weren’t many lives on her conscience, she’d always managed to have impeccable control when she fed from people. In fact, other than Jonathon, the only people she’d ever killed were those who wanted to hurt her, or to hurt Divina’s descendents, and she didn’t mourn their lives when she took them. But she mourned Jonathon, she could never forgive herself for that.
“I should have been there,” Xander whispered in reply to her unspoken thoughts. “I should have been the one to help you. I could have helped you through your first frenzy. I could have stopped you from hurting him. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for anything.”
Adriana placed her mug on the coffee table, swinging her legs round so her feet were flat on the floor in an attempt to ground herself, to keep her from breaking down. She usually hated the feeling of him inside her head, but she was glad for it now, glad she didn’t need to voice any of her racing thoughts out loud.
“If I had known you were alive, if I’d known any of it, I would have done everything I could to help you, Adriana. I would have burnt the entire fucking world down for you, and anyone who ever hurt you with it.”
“What if that included you?” Adriana asked quietly, her hands scratching at the edges of the sofa as her legs shook.
Xander slowly walked over and knelt down in front of her. His warm hands stroked up her calves before coming to rest on her knees, gently stopping her restless shaking legs. She froze at his touch, at his closeness. This was the most contact they’d had outside of training, previously only touching hands or brushing past one another in the kitchen when they cooked in the evenings.
His eyes bore into hers as he spoke, “Then I would gladly burn for you, my Lux.”
Adriana’s breath hitched in her throat as he reached a hand slowly towards her and wiped the tear from her face. His fingers lingered on the small scar on her cheek, before they trailed down to her neck and stroked the large silver bite mark.
Xander’s brows furrowed, his eyes wandering to the other scars she’d left on display. This was the first time she had ever allowed him to really see the marks she bore from his attack. And she could feel a strange warmth bloom beneath every scar as his eyes met it.
He could see the marks on her chest, the evidenced memory of forcefully sinking his teeth into her body as she had cried. Although her arms were covered with Nocte brands, the silver bite marks still shone through in the sunlight, as did the small scars on her wrists from where his talons had pierced through the skin. She could still hear the sound of her skin tearing and her bones breaking—she could still feel each and every moment.
“You should hate me,” he said in a low voice. “You should fucking despise me for what I did.”
Adriana watched him, noticing the tears that gathered in his eyes as he continued to note her scars. She should hate him, she knew that. She should hate him for what he’d been forced to do to her, she should hate him for not asking for help to prevent it,she should hate him for what he had turned her into. But she couldn’t. She hated what he had done, yes, but she could not hate him.
She reached forward and ran her fingers down his jaw. Xander leant into her hand, closing his eyes and sighing at her rare and gentle touch. He held her hand in place when she went to pull away, caressing the back of her palm with his thumb as he pressed his lips to the scar on her wrist.
Adriana tensed at the feeling of his warm breath against her skin, so close to her vein. He noticed and pulled away, seemingly worried he had scared her, but as his eyes met hers, she saw the reflection of her own hunger within his.
Xander swiftly stood and stepped away, putting some distance between them. “You need to feed,” he said, all emotion wiped from his face and voice. She nodded at him. “I don’t have anything else stored here. It’s been a while since I’ve been back to stock up properly and I hadn't exactly anticipated this.”
