“I’m sorry,” Haven whispers, her big, blue eyes etched with concern. “I’m so sorry.”
“You and me both, rabbit.”
I’m not sure if I actually speak, or just think the words in my head.
Does it matter?
The pain, the light, all thought is receding.
I’ve been knocked out before, but this feels…different.
Maybe because the voice has finally gone quiet.
Sofucking quiet.
A part of me hopes it’s over.
After years of fighting, I’m bone tired.
But the part that keeps me up at night, that makes me suspicious of everyone and paranoid about everything, that hates the snow…that part isn’t done fighting.
I try to cling on to consciousness, try to push back the dark.
But it swallows me whole.
Chapter 56
Haven
My eyes snap open at the trill of a magpie outside the window.
Usually, this is the part where I snag my earplugs off the nightstand, shove them in my ears, and carry on sleeping.
It’s Christmas morning, and I’ve never been more awake in my entire fucking life.
I lie perfectly still, taking little sips of air. Kai’s arm is draped over my belly, his breath slow against the back of my neck. Bastian’s on his back in front of me, one hand loosely tangled in my hair.
They’re dead to the world.
I’m vibrating out of my skin.
It’s tempting as hell to wake them up the fun way. Sliding my hand down Kai’s abs until he groans, then pressing my ass into his lap. Bastian waking up and watching us with those dark, predatory eyes of his until he decides to join.
We’ve perfected that morning routine over the past three weeks.
But this isn’t any other morning.
It’s fuckingChristmas.
I extract myself from my men’s arms and legs with the precision of a bomb technician. Kai mumbles something and rolls into the warm spot I’ve vacated, immediately snuggling against Bastian’s side. Our professor—though I guess I can’t call him that anymore—doesn’t wake, but he pulls Kai closer.
God, they’re handsome.
I stare at the two of them with their perfect muscles and their perfect fucking faces, and it takes every bit of willpower I have to walk away.
Not today, Lucifer.
I grab Bastian’s Henley off the floor and slip it on before padding barefoot to the door. The white shirt hits me mid-thigh, and soaks me in the pines-dusted-with-snow scent. The cabin’s hardwood floor is cold, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except what’s waiting for me in the living room.
