I tossed the towel over the back of the desk chair and walked toward the dresser for an oversized shirt to sleep in. I want nothing more than to drop into the middle of the mattress and burrow under all my favorite blankets—
“What’s this?”
Something small at the foot of the bed caught my attention.
My heart stilled as vague memories of my nightmare clawed at the barrier in my mind that had kept them out all day. I fortified my mental wall against those dreams, hand still reaching out for the tiny white and brown feather.
I lifted it, twisting it between my fingers.
How odd.
I looked around the room, but I was still alone.
9
It took no time at all to unlock the front door. Almost infuriating at how easy it was—how vulnerable it made her.
The door clicked shut behind me, and I didn’t bother relocking it. As quiet as a mouse, I crept through the Ashcroft house, taking in meager changes as I went. The décor had modernized into art and furniture with sharper edges compared to the Victorian style Hunter had been partial too. Colors were brighter in places that used to be dark wood. Not that it personally affected me, but I much preferred the house a decade ago.
Changes in aesthetic didn’t hinder my path through the long hall to the back of the house. By the time I passed the kitchen my heart rate had doubled, pounding erratically against my ribs. The lingering aroma of her soap and floral lotion lingered outside the bathroom, and the potency nearly sent me to my knees.
My hand lingered on the bathroom doorknob for longer than I’d like to admit. It took an insurmountable effort to peel myself from the temptation of finding evidence of her shower. The thought of taking a few golden strands of hair from her brush rushed through me, but I successfully bypassed them.
The door groaned when I applied pressure, and I held my breath. Silence continued and I pushed enough to fit through the gap. The changes to the room struck me at first. I remembered the drawing room from ages ago where Hunter and I hadspent hours drinking, talking, and planning when we weren’t in his study. Brown leather couches had been replaced by a desk near the fireplace and the sideboard that held Hunter’s whiskey collection had been replaced by a bed. A drawer for clothes had been added, otherwise the room was relatively untouched. The same moody green darkened the walls, and a small portion of the old language professor’s book collection spilled from the shelves around the fireplace.
A nest of pillows and blankets sat messy and waiting on the bay window looking out over the garden.Adorable.
But now I knew the view from inside surpassed the view from outside the glass.
A dim fire behind the grate warmed the room and highlighted Ophelia’s supine form in glowing gold. Her hair splayed out in a halo around the pillow, one arm dangled over the edge of the bed, and a loose shirt partially obscured the shape of her figure. Even asleep she was astoundingly enchanting. Beautiful and serene to the point of agony as I didn’t know if I had the self-restraint necessary to stop myself from touching her.
Heaving breaths dragged her scent into my lungs, goading me with her nearness. A shiver zipped down my spine and my clenched fists twitched at my sides. The effort of standing still was my personal torment. But she needed sleep before the world inevitably tipped under her feet.
I could give her that—that safety and security.
I shouldn’t have agreed to let her become my assistant. The logical part of my mind knew it was like setting a steak in front of a wolf, but I couldn’t resist her if I tried. And God help me, I had.
Those first few nights I’d stayed outside the window, telling myself I was only checking to make sure Hunter’s granddaughter was safe. But night by night I inched closer andcloser until I was right outside the bay window. And tonight, I went to the front door like a man possessed.
The power she held over me was a torment.
Tension coiled in my bones and muscles, keeping me on edge for the hour I watched her sleep, luxuriating in learning the little sighs and expressions she made throughout her dreams. Ever since that first meeting my mind had been invested in thoughts of her and ways to keep her safe from Moloch’s apostles. It had become a crucial task in my mind, turning her into an obsession without a cure.
I wouldn’t let the bastards have her.
No one could have what wasmine.
10
“You should have some friends over and have a party!” Mom’s voice came distorted through the phone; a mix of poor reception and the music playing wherever she was that week. As pumped full of pina coladas as she was, and based on the few details she provided, I guessed it was some Caribbean beach. “I don’t mind if you have company, darling. Wouldn’t it be so nice to use all that space for something fun?”
I sighed, shutting my laptop resting on the vintage relic shaped like a desk I was sitting at that morning. “That’s alright, Mom. You know I’m too busy for that. This is my final year…”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Her chipper energy stabbed into my ears, and I held the phone further away. She continued shouting over the background music, a stark contrast to the silence I’d existed in most of the weekend while powering through assignments. “You need friends, Ophie. What better way to make them than by throwing a party and inviting them over? Kilbride has a massive campus. I’m sure you can hand out flyers…”
“Mom—”
“… those frat boys always love to have a good time…”
