"You were groaning in your sleep," he says quietly. "A nightmare?"
I chuckle faintly.
"You could say that. A very absurd one. The whole city was destroyed, everyone died, and it all started in warehouses owned by the mafia. I think a bomb went off there."
"Maybe it represents your emotions about your family," he says after a moment. "The dream is showing you something, the inner conflict, the tear in your loyalty to them."
Suddenly I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I feel his sweet scent, mixed with vanilla, around me, and all I want is to focus on him.
Something catches my eye. A strip of natural black hair shows near his scalp as the blue dye slowly fades.
"You’re not dyeing your hair blue anymore?"
Salt turns his head away abruptly, a little embarrassed. "No. The dye might not be healthy for the baby."
I realize I also haven’t seen him smoking since I went back from the mainland.
"He’s becoming more real to you, isn’t he?" I whisper.
Salt nods gently, playing with a blade of grass.
For a moment, I watch the faint crease between his brows. He looks like he’s thinking something through.
"And your hair… you haven’t cut it in a few months."
Instinctively, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my curls. It’s actually grown out quite a bit, a few inches already.
"Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it soon. Pip probably offers that kind of service."
Salt huffs. "That’s not what I mean. Just… did you ever have long hair? Back then, before we first met, I mean. I’m asking because it’s starting to curl."
I let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah. I always had it down to my shoulders, all curls. I cut it the day I ran away from the fortress." I exhale. "It felt like a fresh start."
Salt blinks and looks away again, his gaze drifting toward the ocean, suddenly distant.
I watch him for a second, then ask, "Why?"
He hesitates, squinting slightly.
"You know… after I shot those bastards, I wanted to kill myself. I put the barrel under my chin, ready to pull the trigger, but… I saw something. A vision. An alpha, kneeling in a cage. His back was torn up from a whip, bleeding. He had black, curly hair down to his shoulders, falling over his face…"
Silence settles between us, broken only by the soft rush of the coastal wind through the long grass.
"And I heard a voice telling me,Don’t give up.So I didn’t pull the trigger."
I don’t know what to say. My throat tightens.
Salt closes his eyes. "I think it was you. I saw you in that cage. I know Anzo kept you there, hurt you… I think our souls were already connected somehow, Eliano. I saw you, and you gave me this little push I needed to keep living."
I swallow hard before I manage to say, "I’m glad you didn’t pull the trigger, Salt. You’re… everything to me."
He blinks abruptly and lowers his gaze, as if my words made him cringe.
At this point, Salt seems fully accustomed to tender gestures, but romantic confessions? That’s still a work in progress.
Silence settles between us.
My hand slowly slides over his sides, to his stomach, and it suddenly hits me that it is just slightly more rounded. The difference is tiny, almost imperceptible, but I know his beautiful body too well.
