Valen’s dark strands rustle from a particularly strong gust of wind. The cords of muscle in his arm flex when he lowers his leg. His shoulders deflate with a sigh. I hate how dejected he looks and desperately want to make it better, but I don’t know how. It’s only been a few months since he was freed, and I’m sure he’s still searching for ways to run from his nightmares. I still hear him periodically thrashing on the couch, and when I do, I try to sneak out and sleep next to him on the floor so I can hold his hand. He seems to sleep better with physical contact. I always end up back in my bed each morning, and neither of us talks about it.
“Do you think they’ll go away?” His soft whisper is barely audible. “No matter how hard I try to fight them off, I always see them.” Sadness etches over his features, and my heart breaks.
“Of course they will. It takes time, and you only recently got out of that hellscape.” I long to touch him, to graze my fingers against his or touch his cheek or even glide my fingers throughhis hair. But I keep my hands to myself, because I’m not sure if he would appreciate physical contact at the moment.
“Back when I was first captured, my dreams were my only reprieve. They were one of the few times I could escape reality. They’d try all kinds of experiments and torture on me that I’d zone out to the point that it was hard to come back to myself.” Valen sits stock-still, and I say screw it and thread my arm through his, which makes him relax. “The sickest part of it all is I never even found my sister.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh and deflates. I squeeze his bicep in silent reassurance.
“Did you find any clues about where she was? I know you mentioned she went missing.” My curiosity gets the better of me as I itch to know more about him.
“She was killed by a demon,” he says softly, gazing out at the city. I can see just enough of his face to know he’s faraway right now, stuck in memories perhaps better off not reliving. But the least I can do is listen to him. “Just before I was captured, I found one of her feathers coated in blood. Angels have unique wings, so I knew it was her, and the stench was undeniable.” Valen hardens and I see a streak of revenge flash through his eyes. “Part of me finds solace in the fact that I know what happened to her, but the other is horrified I didn’t get to her in time. I failed Safira.”
My lips downturn in sympathy. I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for him. “Valen, you couldn’t have known. You did the best you could.” I stroke his arm, trying to offer as much comfort as I can.
He finally turns to me with vigor. “I promise you, Ava. I will never let you down, not if I can help it. If we are parted, know I’m moving heaven and earth to get to you. I won’t give up until you’re back in my arms.” His eyes are firm but earnest, and I know that even though we’re still getting to know each other, this man—this vampire—will do anything for me. And thecrazy part is I think he would even if we weren’t mates. Just like the lengths he went to for his sister, Valen is a protector at heart.
Tears well in my eyes at the passion in his words.
Spencer and I were inseparable when we were together, but I’m starting to see how faulty our relationship really was. It didn’t hold this magnetic attraction, mate bond aside, or hold the foundation of trust we are beginning to build.
“Remember that kiss from earlier?” I ask softly, waiting for his reaction. Valen nods with a shyness, his eyes dropping with something akin to embarrassment. I touch his cheek, and he meets my eyes. “I’m going to show you what a real kiss is like,” I whisper.
Giving him time to pull away, I close the gap and slide a hand around his nape. Slowly twisting the strands around my fingers, I pepper kisses around his face. I pay special attention to the slope of his neck and the strong jaw I’ve longed to kiss up until this point. His ragged breaths spur me on, and I tease him by kissing around his lips.
With a growl of frustration, Valen pulls me flush to his chest in one quick motion and properly seals his lips to mine. It’s a little awkward at first, but he’s a quick learner, following my lead. I run my tongue over his lips, which part in surprise, and slip between them to tease his. He rumbles in appreciation. My toes tingle at how he consumes me.
I skirt my fingers along the hem of his shirt and feel the V shape leading downward. When my full palm rests on his abdomen, he stiffens and pulls away. It’s not an outright rejection, but I know we’ve hit the limit of what he’s okay with for now.
“I’m sorry,” Valen whispers sheepishly. “I…” He shakes his head. “I got nervous.”
“Don’t apologize for anything. The last thing Iwant to do is make you uncomfortable or push you to do what you’re not ready for.”
He smiles gratefully and plants one last kiss on the top of my head. Pulling me up, we head back downstairs to the apartment. That night, he sleeps on top of the blankets next to me with Pom Pom curled between us.
CHAPTER 18
VALEN
Avaand I are on the couch watching another episode of the vampire show after work when her cell phone rings. I’m still baffled by the small rectangular device that connects people from long distances.
“Hello?” Ava answers while I fumble with the remote to pause the show.
She points to the right button, and I turn it completely off on accident. Pom Pom chews on a toy in his dog bed in the corner, unaware of what’s going on. At second glance, it might be my shoe.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Ava adjusts her position on the couch, crossing her legs in a way she’s told me is crisscross applesauce, which is baffling because applesauce is a food, not a position.
A female voice echoes across the line. It’s hard not to hear the upbeat woman on the other end, but I pretend to be enraptured by the book I snag off the floor and not look like I’meavesdropping. Ava is not dumb, though, and probably knows I can hear without even trying.
“Hey, sweetie,” the chipper female voice replies. “Fancy a visit home soon? I’ll even make my homemade apple pie you love so much.”
Ava admires her newly painted purple nails while she talks. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I miss you guys. Does this weekend work?”
“I’ll make sure your father doesn’t have plans I don’t know about, but I believe we’re open! I can’t wait to squeeze you, Aves,” she gushes. “I don’t get to see you enough.”
The love Ava’s mother radiates is palpable. Even though she’s not her biological parent, it doesn’t matter, and you can tell that’s true for both. Filled with the urge to meet this woman, I tap Ava on the hand. She looks at me with an adorably confused expression, and I motion from me to her and then the phone. Her brows furrow, and I mime out what I’m trying to say.
“What?” Ava hisses, trying to lean away.
“I’ll come with you,” I whisper.
