I wondered if he could sense the strange tension building between the two of us. We were here—we’d handled the immediate crisis at hand, and for the first time since we’d realized the hounds were after him, we were safe. It felt like it had been so long since it had happened. Not just a handful of days.
And hanging there in the middle of it all, hitched on the heels of that relief… was the fact that Cole had killed someone to keep me with him, and then we’d come together in the water like it was the last time we’d ever be able to touch. I had an idea ofwhy it had happened… or why it had happened so suddenly, so forcefully.
The thread between us had never been sated, the connection never truly sealed. The act of him sacrificing that piece of himself, that innocence… I’d seen the line flare a bright and blinding crimson. I’d felt all the little pieces he’d frayed at the edges when he’d pulled on it come back together.
Some part of me knew that the only reason the hounds hadn’t found us was because the line had sealed up the wounds he’d left, hidden away the scent of nearly spilled Vitality.
And then we hadn’t said anything about it at all… even though we’d gone back to my apartment and he’d fallen asleep while I was in the room with him.
Even though he’d silently slipped his fingers through mine and wrapped my arms around his waist while he slept.
Holding him that night after he’d asked me if I waswithhim had meant more to me than I had words for.
More than I’d had a chance to tell him.
And some part of me wondered… if we’d never been put into that position, would he have asked me the same?
I think a part of him was curious too… maybe a little confused. It made sense. He’d spent so much time making me a villain to assuage the guilt that had never been his to feel. What had happened between us probably seemed like an anomaly, something that had occurred from desperation and adrenaline instead of the thread between us finally winding so tight that we could do nothing else but fall into one another.
Wren never pulled an arrow he didn’t need.
I caught Cole looking at his phone a few hours later.
Gethin had brought food, though Cole had only picked at it. He’d pointed out the bathroom tucked away in the back of our little space, and let us both shower before unceremoniously telling us to leave him alone for the night. The ex-cupid wasa strange mixture of uncaring and a gracious host, though I wondered if the latter was simply because he wanted to make sure I delivered on his favor when the time came.
But Cole… Cole’s brows were drawn together as he sat cross-legged on the little sleeper sofa shoved into the corner of the room, folded down now with a blanket and two pillows scattered across the top of it.
Gethin had justassumedwe’d share the space. Or maybe he knew that Reapers didn’t have to sleep. Whatever it was, I sighed as I made my way over to Cole. Glancing over his shoulder told me my assumption was correct… he was scrolling the news.
He didn’t look up from his phone when he spoke. “They barely mentioned that man I killed. Apparently he was known for running with a bad crowd… they said it was probably drug related.”
He almost sounded disappointed, like some part of him had wanted to get caught and tried for the crimes. The human justice system was corrupt; it rarely cared about people in less fortunate circumstances. I could have told him that even if theyhadsuspected him, I would have found a way out for him… but…
“He wasn’t a good person.” Did that make a difference?
“He was still a person, Sephtis.” Cole dropped his phone, and his fingers ran through still-damp hair to push it out of his face. It made him look younger, let me see how wide and haunted his eyes were. “I killed a person.”
Did saying it aloud mean something? The rise and fall of his chest made me think it did—the rapidfire beat of his heart pounding just behind my ears made me think it was very important.
And the urge I had to close the space between us was irresistible. I’d been able to ignore it before, to give him his distance… but that red thread between us had ignited in the lake, and for some reason…
For some reason, I couldn’t stay away. Maybe he felt it too, because when I settled beside him on the bed, he didn’t stand up. He just dropped his shoulders and put his head in his hands.
“I killed someone,” he said again. “For you.”
When he turned his head so he could look up at me, I felt almost helpless under the weight of his gaze—the accusation, the confusion. And behind it all, the burning need forsomethingelse.
“I know. I never would have asked you to.”
“I think… no, Iknowthat.” Cole’s brows dipped. “I just needed…”
Now we’re both monsters.
He’d seemed so broken when he’d said it, but it seemedimportantto him that I knew it.
“You’re with me.” I watched his face to see if the words would spark the anger I was used to. When he straightened up and looked at me with those wide, vulnerable eyes, I kept on. “Until I met you, I never questioned the weight of what taking a soul truly meant. It…” It was a burden I could have carried alone for the rest of my existence, something I was built to do. But… “It means more than you could possibly realize, to know that you’d carry that for me.”
Cole was silent for so long that I wondered if I’d said something wrong, if I’d pushed too hard in my need to comfort him. Finally, he blew out a trembling breath, and his fingers were slow but intentional when he reached his hand out and carefully placed his palm on the center of my chest.
