"Obviously," he says in a clipped tone. "I can't have people knowing my girlfriend, our coven's fucking Thirteenth, looks like…"
He trails off, but he doesn't need to finish that thought for me to know exactly what he was about to say.
"A glamour this comprehensive takes a lot of energy," I say quietly.
"I know." His hand covers mine, squeezing gently before standing. "But it's worth it. Especially in front of others. You'll learn to maintain it. I know you can."
Kyle has always been stingy with my magic. Always monitoring my energy expenditure, always ensuring the coven's needs come before my own. The fact that he's willing—eager, even—to have me spend significant power on hiding my face tells me everything I need to know about how he sees me now.
Damaged goods.
An embarrassment to be concealed.
Maybe he's even personally fucking disgusted by me now.
"Do you still love me?" I ask before I can stop myself.
He freezes at the door, his back to me. The silence stretches, seconds morphing into an eternity.
"Get some rest, Regina."
The door closes behind him with a resolute thud, and I'm alone again.
More than I ever have been.
I wake with a gasp, my face wet with tears and my heart tripping over itself.
It takes me a moment to figure out where the fuck I am. An attic with dusty bookshelves, artifact-filled trunks, and the familiar musty smell of old magic. I'm not in bed. I'm curled up on the reading couch, an open grimoire resting across my chest.
Right. I'm in the pack house in my improvised research station. I'm safe.
Three years removed from that nightmare, even if my subconscious hasn't gotten the memo yet.
Gods, I was so weak then. Blind to who Kyle really was and completely out of options after getting half my face ripped off. I let myself believe he still cared about me. Loved me, even.
I will never betray my instincts again.
Never. Fucking. Again.
Movement near the window catches my attention as I stretch like a cat on the couch. Killian is sprawled on the floor beside the couch, his massive frame somehow folded into something resembling a comfortable position. A spare blanket covers most of him, one bare foot sticking out.
He must have fallen asleep while watching over me. They've been doing that lately. Taking shifts, making sure someone's always nearby. I've noticed them disappearing periodically and heard the distant howls that mean they're running in the woods. Sometimes I'll catch glimpses of them heading to class. But they're careful never to shift in front of me.
They don't want to scare me.
Kind of sweet, but also fucking mortifying.
Killian's eyes snap open, immediately alert. Shifter reflexes. One second unconscious, the next completely awake and scanning for threats.
I jump a little despite myself.
The dream iswaytoo fresh.
"Hey." His voice is rough with sleep. "You okay?"
"Just a bad dream." I push myself upright, the grimoire sliding off my chest. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
He's on his feet before I can protest, scooping me up like I weigh nothing. Compared to him, I basically do.
