Ash drops her gaze to her hands resting in her lap. “I’m okay, Kai.”
Refusing to accept that as an answer, I crouch down and gently use my knuckles to tilt her head back, trying to get a better look at her face. As our eyes lock, my heart pounds, and I’m overwhelmed by the raw emotion in her eyes.
“You’re not okay,” I murmur, my voice soft but firm.
She gives a small, bitter laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I just can’t believe you’re here. I’m grateful but also pissed. It’s an odd combination.”
A grin tugs at my lips, and I reach out, brushing some of her matted hair away from her face. Then I settle down beside her, my shoulder gently bumping hers as I slip my hand into hers, entwining our fingers. The warmth of her skin grounds me, reminding me why I came.
“I wasn’t going to leave you here,” I say quietly. “Penn came and got me, and there was no way I was refusing—”
“Penn found you?” Her voice is sharp with disbelief, cutting through the moment.
“Yeah,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Those fucking dragons have been spying on me,” she snaps, her magic flaring suddenly, the air around us crackling with energy.
I give her hand a gentle squeeze, trying to defuse the tension. “Are you more pissed off with them for spying, or that you didn’t notice they were spying?”
Her answering growl makes me laugh, despite the situation. “Ash, they’re the notorious Kotov brothers. What did you expect?”
“I earned my privacy,” she mutters, her voice tight with frustration. “The fact that it was an illusion . . . it rubs me the wrong way.”
I nod, understanding the anger simmering beneath her words. “Why didn’t you tell me who you work for?” I ask, my tone careful. It’s a question that’s been gnawing at me ever since I found out.
Ash hesitates, her fingers tightening around mine. “It’s just another reason for you not to be with me.”
Her words hit me like a blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I blink, taken aback. “What?”
She sighs, averting her gaze. “You know it’s true, Kai. I’m a mess, tangled up in things I shouldn’t be. I work for—”
“You’re not them,” I interrupt, my voice hardening as I shift closer, making sure she understands. “You’re not your past, or the people you work for. Don’t think for a second that who you are—who we are—depends on them.”
Ash doesn’t say anything, but I can see the turmoil in her expression, the way her jaw tightens as she fights whatever internal battle she’s waging. I reach up, cupping her cheek gently, forcing her eyes to meet mine again.
“I’m here,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She lets out a slow, shaky breath. “I don’t deserve you, Kai.”
“You deserve more than you think,” I say softly, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “And I’m not giving up on you. Not now. Not ever. Though I really wish I could wash all this blood off you because it’s driving me fucking crazy seeing your blood smeared everywhere. I want to hunt down the creature who did this and tear him to shreds.”
Her expression softens with understanding as she leans up, cupping my cheek with her hand. Her lips brush softly against mine, the faintest touch, before she pulls back and whispers, “Tomorrow.” Her voice is laced with dark determination, her eyes burning with resolve. “You can help me kill him tomorrow. If we get a head start at daybreak, we can put more distance between us.”
I nod, though the tension inside me tightens. “What exactly are we up against?” I ask carefully.
“An ancient vampire,” she replies, her voice cold with disgust. “One that’s been feeding on my blood and magic, restoring himself to his former glory. The prick tore chunks of—”
She cuts off suddenly, her mouth pulling into a grimace. I realize I’m trembling, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.
“Sorry,” she whispers, her eyes flicking up to mine, and guilt flashes across her face.
I shake my head, trying to rein in the storm of emotions coursing through me. “No, I’m sorry,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair in frustration. The thought of her being hurt, vulnerable, tortured by that monster—it’s too much.
Her hand tightens in mine, grounding me. “Let’s just deal with it in the morning,” she says, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “I need sleep.”
“I’ll keep watch, beautiful,” I say softly. “Sleep.”
Ash’s body sags against me, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. As her breathing slows, I feel her relax for the first time in what seems like forever. But I can’t let myself do the same. My eyes scan the darkening forest around us, ears straining for the slightest sound, every muscle ready to snap into action.
