Before, I would’ve imagined this wouldn’t have been an option, not if I chose to give up my wings, but his mother, a Nephilim, had had a baby, so maybe it wasn’t completelyimpossible.
“By that point, you’ll have grown tired of my Machiavellian ways or ascended and found yourself an angel worthy of filling yourwomb.”
My throat squeezed, and my eyes stung. “How can you say that? How can you even think it?” I turned onto my other side so he wouldn’t see the tears drip off mynose.
“Hey.” He dragged his fingers gently up and down my arm. When I pulled it away, bending it and burrowing it farther under the pillow, he scooted against me, curling his sleep-warmed body against my huddledform.
“Stop imagining me gone,” Isaid.
His palm settled on my stomach, and he pulled mecloser.
“Tristan and Muriel never leftyou.”
“Theyshould’ve.”
“But theydidn’t.”
“Feather, I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t know how to keep youclose.”
I turned around. “Just find a place for me in your heart. Even if it’s a cramped and duskycorner.”
His dark-brown irises eddied around his shrunken pupils. I worried I’d asked for too much, but he dipped his mouth to mine and whispered, “You already own more of it than I’ve ever givenanyone.”
Chapter 49
“That looks nice,”Tristan said, leaning against the mirror outside my changing room, chewing on a toothpick, probably to temper his urge for asmoke.
I studied my reflection or what I could see of it with him standing in the way. When Jarod had enthusiastically announced Tristan would accompany Muriel and me, I’d swallowed back my desire toprotest.
“Absolument pas.”Absolutely not.Muriel shook her head at the simple black sheath that didn’t do much for my curves besides swallow them whole. “Garbage bags areshapelier.”
The saleslady’s complexion pinked as though she felt personally responsible for the hapless cut of the garment. I went back into the changing room and traded the black sheath for a fitted emerald dress with a puffy tulle skirt that hit an inch above my ankles. After contorting my arms to zip up the corset top, I readjusted my breasts, hoping the neckline didn’t make me look vulgar, and stepped out, readying myself for the firingsquad.
Muriel clapped, which made the saleslady next to her loose a relievedbreath.
Tristan, on the other hand, wrinkled his nose. “Jarod won’t likethat.”
Muriel scoffed. “My boy, go.” She flicked her hand toward the back of the store. “You’re being incrediblyunhelpful.”
He heaved himself away from the mirrored wall and strolled down the long aisle of clothes fit for ballrooms andcoronations.
“It’s stunning. We’ll take it,” Muriel said to thesaleswoman.
“Are you sure?” I was trying to see what Tristan disliked about it. “It doesn’t make me look like an overgrownballerina?”
Muriel rolled her heavily kohled eyes. “It does not.” As I retreated into the changing room, she trailed me inside and helped me with the zipper. “I don’t know what Tristan’s problem is today, but if he doesn’t snap out of it, I’m going to have words withJarod.”
“Don’t.”
Muriel’s hands stilled at the bottom of the zipper. “I don’t like the way he’sacting.”
I turned, holding the dress up with my hands. “He just needs time toadapt.”
Her navy eyes drilled into mine. “Fine, I won’t say anything to Jarod, but I won’t promise not to have a conversation withTristan.”
It was as good a compromise as I wouldget.
“Try these three last ones on, and then we’ll head toValentino.”
