Caitlyn chewed her bottom lip, clearly trying to work out how to broach the subject. After a painfully long moment, she finallysaid, “I, um... well, I guess it’s up to you. I know neither of us were expecting”—she gestured vaguely between us—“this. But we can’t really turn back time.” She let out a nervous giggle, and Gods above, it was adorable. “I’m happy to move at whatever pace you want. So, if you’d rather use one of the spare bedrooms, that’s fine... or if you want to bunk with me, that’s fine too.”
Her babbling tugged a grin from me. “You want to sleep top to toe, Caitlyn?”
“Whatever position you’re comfortable with,” she replied earnestly.
I stepped closer, bracing one arm against the wall above her head. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening as her bottom lip caught between her teeth, like she was fighting the instinct to rise onto her toes and close the gap between us.
“I’m comfortable withallpositions,” I said softly.
Even with my abilities dampened, the scent of her desire curled toward me—honeysuckle on a warm summer’s day. It slid straight under my skin, setting off a visceral chain reaction. My body responded instantly, heat pooling low as instinct urged me closer, begging me to take what Fate had put in front of me and devour it.
Ambrose’s name crashed through my mind like a bucket of ice water thrown over my head.
And just as quickly as I’d stepped in, I pulled back, leaving the air between us thick, charged, and unbearably awkward.
I swallowed. “Sorry, Caitlyn. I know I’m not acting it, but I really do want to take things slow until I, um... process—”
“Yeah! No! I totally get it!” she said quickly, her voice going a little squeaky.
“But,” I added, heart thudding, “I really would like to sleep next to you, if that’s still okay?”
“Absolutely!” she said. “I—yeah. I’m looking forward to it.” She gestured vaguely toward the bathroom. “Anyway, it’s been along day, and I need a cold shower—I mean, aregularshower. Just a normal, non-cold shower. And an early night. Because of all the traveling, y’know.” Her nervous giggle was impossibly adorable as she hurried toward the bathroom. “So, y’know,” she added over her shoulder, “make yourself at home. Stay out of the greenhouse. And if you need anything, don’t ask Creep—it’s honestly quicker to just look for it yourself.”
The bathroom door shut behind her.
A second later, even over the sound of the bath filling, I heard her let out a long, mortified groan.
***
I did not join Caitlyn in her ridiculously early bedtime. While she was my fated mate, she’d also hired me for a job. And while I was technically no longer working for her—I certainly wasn’t about to charge my mate for protection—I still intended to protect her, her intellectual property, and her house.
That left me with only Creep for company between perimeter walks.
She spent the first hour pitter-pattering about the place, making things creak and groan, and offering cheap, half-hearted attempts at jump scares. Eventually, she gave up and settled on the couch opposite me, watching with unnerving intensity and that eerie, fixed smile.
I’d spent the past hour trying to break her statuesque glare with an incessant barrage of questions. She hadn’t acknowledged a single one.
“So,” I said into the silence, “you can just materialize anywhere?”
No reaction.
“You don’t need foundations or anything? Like... if you materialized on a sand dune, would you just stay upright? Or would you sink?”
Nothing.
“Can you change the layout of the rooms at will? Or are you stuck like this forever? Because if you ever decided to go open-plan, that wall could just—” I snapped my fingers. “—disappear. And what if Caitlyn and I had atroupeof children and needed more space?” I pressed on. “Could you just magic up an extension?
Still nothing.
“And how do new sentient houses come about, anyway? Do you find another house, compliment its shutters, and make little house babies? Do they start out as sheds and grow? Or do they just pop out fully furnished?”
I could’ve sworn her eye twitched.
Before I could continue my how-long-until-Creep-snaps-and-stabs-me experiment, she shot to her feet and darted out of the room. I glanced at the clock. Morning wasn’t far off, and while I might be a creature of the shadows, I still needed sleep.
Yawning, I rubbed my thighs before getting to my feet, ready for one final perimeter lap. I grabbed the bag I’d retrieved from my van on the last round and started upstairs.
When I reached Caitlyn’s room—ourroom, I reminded myself—I crept inside, set my bag down at the foot of the bed, and allowed myself a couple of minutes to watch her sleep.
