What does he mean he got me? I actually don’t care, since he made Hailey stop shaking me. And I don’t protest when he lifts me up in his arms. Instead, I bury my face in his chest and give in to the siren’s call of slumber, the steady thump of his heartbeat my lullaby.
Rest . . . for now.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
My eyes open to tomb-like darkness. Oh, gods. Where am I? I can’t hear myself think past the terrified thundering of my heart. I blindly reach out, and my hand connects with a table lamp. I sit up and turn the lamp on with fumbling hands. I sigh with relief when warm light fills the room.
There are no nightmare monsters here. No Daeseong.
I rub my eyes to clear my bleary vision and look at my surroundings, willing my heartbeat to return to normal.You’re safe.I’m sitting in a king-size bed in the middle of a luxurious bedroom with muted gold wallpaper and plush cream carpet. It’s not as nice as my room in the Sunset Pavilion, but it’s still a nice room. I guess I have Jaeseok, the high-rolling dokkaebi, to thank for the fancy lodgings.
I gingerly lower my feet to the floor and stand, only to have my legs buckle beneath me. It takes a few more tries, but I finally get to my feet and walk to the window. It’s covered with blackout curtains. No wonder it’s so dark in here.
I pull back the curtains, half expecting it to be bright and sunny outside. But it’s dark out. Well, as dark as Vegas gets. An ache spreads across my chest, and tears sting the tip of my nose.I’m home.
My room overlooks the Fountains of Bellagio, and the mesmerizing water show distracts me enough to avoid everything I should bethinking about. A smile curves my lips, remembering our dip in the man-made lake. I can’t believe I moon shifted us there. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“The view’s much better from up here, isn’t it?” I spin around at the sound of Ethan’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m ... I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“Why? Did I miss dinner?” I sound snarky, but I don’t know how else to act.
“You’ve been asleep for almost three days,” he rasps, looking haunted.
“For three days?” I gape at him. “Why didn’t you try to wake me up?”
“I did try.” He wipes a weary hand down his face. “I wanted you to eat, but I could barely rouse you enough to take sips of water.”
But I don’t feel like someone who’s starved for three days. I turn my focus on my body. The bone-weary fatigue—the fragile weakness—is gone. And I’m finally wide awake, the relentless tug of drowsiness gone. Thank gods for that. I hated feeling so helpless, even when surrounded by friends. Suddenly, I’m ravenous. My stomach growls on cue, loudly enough to make Ethan’s lips quirk into a small smile.
“I’ll order room service,” he says graciously. “Rare steak with two sunny-side up eggs?”
“Let’s ... let’s take a walk.” I look down at myself and notice the pink cami set I’m wearing. I blush to the roots of my hair. “Did you ...”
“No, no, no.” Ethan straightens in the doorway and holds his palms out. “Hailey changed you so you’d be more comfortable. Your clothes were ruined in the fight ... She hung up a change of clothes for you in the closet.”
My eyes take in his appearance for the first time. He’s not wearing his bloodied clothes from the battle, but his rumpled T-shirt and jeans don’t seem like much of an upgrade. His hair is clumped together in places and sticking out in others. He has obviously run his hands through it quite a bit. His eyes are bloodshot, and days’ worth of beard darkens his jaws. He’s a mess, and knowing why makes my heart hurt.
“I should clean up and change before we venture outside.” I wave my hand toward the vicinity of my en suite bathroom.
“Of course. I ... I should as well.” But he doesn’t budge from the door, his throat working. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
He spins on his heels and walks away from my room before I can burst into tears in front of him. I manage to get my shit together and don’t ugly cry until I’m under the spray of hot water. The water runs red, and that makes me cry harder. I don’t care if I’m being a baby. It’s been a hard few weeks, and it’s hard to believe that we’re safe ... even for a little while.
When I’m ready, I go out to the living room, and Ethan shoots to his feet from the couch. His eyes scan me from head to toe as though he needs to reassure himself that I’m okay. He changed into a clean T-shirt and a pair of snug jeans, and I can’t help drinking in the sight of him. He’s safe. He’s healthy. It feels like a miracle.
He takes a step toward me with his hand outstretched. He opens his mouth on a sharp inhale, and I hold my breath. But after a moment, he drops his arm, pressing his lips together. I exhale a little shakily. I stare at the lock of damp hair that fell across his forehead and ache to brush it away. Instead, we nod awkwardly at each other and walk out of our suite without a word.
I feel him stealing glances at me as we stroll down the crowded sidewalk, his hand hovering protectively behind me—not quite touching—whenever anyone gets too close. Our magic is doused. Well, at least mine is. I can’t feel the powerful current of Ethan’s gi, but it prickles just beneath his skin, ready to burst free.Of course.His mother had bound his magic ... He hasn’t had much practice at hiding his magic on his own.
“You need to relax, Ethan,” I say softly, reaching for his hand. He shoots me a wide-eyed glance, then rushes to lace his fingers through mine as though I might snatch them away. “Your magic is too close to the surface.”
“I ... Sorry.” He exhales a long, slow breath. “I have a lot to learn about my ... powers. What they are. How to wield them. How to hide them.”
I remember snatches of our battle at Heaven Lake—the glow of his silver-and-green eyes, the deadly strikes of his golden axe and silver axe, the burst of unfathomable power that pushed back the nightmare beasts. This male is the Prince of Mountains. He’s a stranger to me.
I tug on my hand, but he holds tight. After another half-hearted pull, I leave my hand where it is. The obstinate set of his jaw tells me he won’t let go without a fight—and I’m tired of fighting. At least, he’s as stubborn as ever. That much is familiar about him.
He holds the door as I walk inside Roxy’s Diner, then follows close behind me. When I slide into my booth, he pauses by my side for a moment, and I freeze in my seat. I’m relieved when he settles into the bench across from mine. But when I meet his determined, unwavering gaze, I wonder if it would’ve been better if he’d sat next to me. I’m thankful for an excuse to look away when Rachel hurries to our table.
