An apology, if nothing else.
Hastily grabbing a pen from a tray on top of the dresser, he took the empty evidence envelope and scrawled a few feeble words on the back of it.
Then he slipped out the door on stealthy assassin’s feet.
* * * *
Sia woke up to an empty bed and bright morning sunlight streaming in through the small window of her attic apartment.
Like the tendrils of an amazing dream, Trygg’s dark, spicy scent still clung to the thin sheets and her naked skin. But her dark, incredibly passionate lover was gone.
Of course he was. Daylight and the Breed didn’t mix.
Still, disappointment made her groan as she threw off the coverlet and drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t one to sulk, but the fact that he hadn’t woken her before he left drew her mouth into a small pout. Then again, had he roused her to say good-bye, she might have persuaded him to do even more.
No doubt about that, she thought, shivering at the delicious memory of everything they’d done last night.
How long would she have to wait before she saw him again?
Would he call or come back to the shelter tonight? She wasn’t the sort of woman to wait for something she wanted, but she didn’t even have a way to reach him, short of showing up unannounced at the Order’s command center in the heart of the city.
She didn’t know what to do with the giddy energy that was zinging through her. It was as foreign as the low thrum of need that was still resonating inside her, making her stomach flutter and flip. That sensation only intensified when she saw the evidence envelope lying on her dresser, a short note written in bold black handwriting across the back of it.
Trygg’s handwriting.
She raced over and picked up the message, hardly able to contain her smile.
As soon as she read the first line, all of her excitement drained into the floor.
Sia,
Tonight was great. But it shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry to leave like this. Should have gone before things went too far.
T.
She stared at his hasty scrawl, her face burning as if she’d been slapped. Humiliation swamped her, along with a pain she didn’t know what to call.
Of course, she shouldn’t be surprised Trygg had left. She was always the one being left or betrayed.
Elyon had used her body for his own amusement and her position on the council to further his deranged political ambitions. Before him, it had been Zael, an Atlantean charmer who had romanced her into his bed whenever the whim struck him, only to leave the colony later and give his heart to a woman who was Breed.
There had been several men who came and went from Sia’s immortal past, but, incredibly, Trygg’s abrupt rejection stung her the most.
At least he’d been upfront about it.
And she had no one to blame for this morning-after dose of harsh reality except herself.
After all, she’d been the one pushing him.
Hadn’t she feared that was a mistake even last night, as she was blissfully, blindly entangled in his arms?
Now she felt so stupid. So miserably embarrassed.
The only saving grace was the fact that she probably would never see Trygg again. He’d make sure of that, she had no doubt.
She could only hope she’d be spared the further mortification of having to face him after practically throwing herself in his lap.
Sia let out a huffed sigh as she tore his message into confetti and dropped it in the trash. All she wanted to do was crawl back into the lumpy bed and pretend this had never happened.
