Neo guided me to her bathroom with Zeke’s help, his arm steady under my weight. Without a word, she filled the bathtub with steaming water, the scent of pine, blood and smoke hanging in the air. Zeke left shortly after.
I sank down into the hot water, my shoulders rigid. Neo knelt beside me, dipping a cloth into the water. Carefully, she began to wipe away the grime and blood, with each stroke almost reverent.
"You don’t have to..." my voice was rough.
"Shut up," Neo muttered, though her tone carried more concern than annoyance. "You look like hell. Let me do this."
The first sweep swept away a streak of dried blood, the water rippling as the filth dissolved into it. With each wipe, more of the battle clung to the cloth—ash, sweat, and the black ichor of the Krampus… until the once-clear water grew murky. The steam that rose from the bathtub carried the scent of iron and smoke; it curled into the air like the ghosts of my fight. Neo worked in silence, her movement steady—almost ritualistic, as if she were scrubbing away not just grime but the weight of my actions.
By the time she wrung out the cloth for the last time, the water had turned a deep, cloudy gray, shadows swirling in its depths. It was as though the basin itself had absorbed the violence of the night, holding it so I no longer had to.
I sat still, my eyes closed, letting the darkness drain into the water.
Chapter 26
NEO
Istand in the doorway, the soft glow of candlelight casting a cozy sheen over the room. My heart aches in quiet rhythm as I watch Nox finally asleep in my bed. The tension that usually clings to him like armor has melted away, leaving only the vulnerable curve of his shoulders and the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.
Hex is curled atop him like a bone guardian full of quiet magic. His tiny skull rests against Nox’s sternum. His tail twitches once, then stills, as if sensing my gaze. I step closer, barefoot on the creaking wood, my fingers trailing along the edge of the blanket. In my other hand I have a bat-shaped mug for Nox; it’s filled with fresh hot coffee. Nox’s face is peaceful, but even in sleep, he looks haunted—like someone who walked through fire and smells it still. His left hand is tucked under the pillow and he looks so very handsome.
I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb them. I reach out and brush a strand of hair from Nox’s forehead, my touch light as a feather. He doesn’t stir, but his breath deepens, as if he knows I’m here.
Hex shifts slightly, bone clicking against bone, and he nestles deeper into Nox’s chest. I smile; even death has chosen to curl up beside him.
The coffee mug is still hot in my hands, its scent curling into the quiet morning, and I lean forward to place the mug on the nightstand. The ceramic clicks against the wood gently. I stand up, the mattress sighing beneath me as I move, still stretching the sleep from my limbs as I walk towards the bathroom.
"Morning, nightshade."
His voice is low and rough with sleep, but unmistakably his. It crawls through the silence like a spider over its web.
I freeze mid-step when I hear his voice, my heart skips and I turn around.
Nox’s eyes are now open, light gray and heavy-lidded, watching me with his familiar, unreadable intensity. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and his hand reaches up to scratch Hex’s skull.
"Morning… bat boy," I whisper back, my voice catching on something too big for words.
I walk barefoot across the cool hardwood floor of my room, the fairy lights twinkling softly against the crimson of the bed. The air carries a faint chill, remnants of the winter night seeping through the window. I push open the bathroom door, walking towards the shower and twist the faucet. Hot water starts to flow in a soothing rush, the space filling with steam and the scent of cocoa soap. I peel off my nightgown, letting it drop on the tiled floor. My naked form reflects in the glass—my curves softened by the gentle light, my nipple pebbling in the humid air. I step into the shower, letting the water cascade over my body—tilting my head and letting it sluice over my shoulders.
The door creaks open and Nox enters, his presence announced by the subtle shift in the air. He moves with predatory grace, shedding his boxers as he approaches, his muscular frame casting a shadow over the shower curtain. I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of him through the misted mirror, my eyes stopping at his healing wound. Histattoos are rippling across his broad chest and arms, his cock already thickening at the base, heavy and ready. A shiver runs through me, not from the water, but from the hunger in his gaze.
He pulls the curtain aside without a word and steps in, his body pressing against my back. The water soaks his dark hair, rivulets tracing the lines of his ink as he wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His free hand slides up to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple. I arch into him, a soft moan escaping me as his lips find the curve of my neck, kissing the wet skin with light pressure. His tongue lingers on the bite mark, igniting its sting into a slow burn.
"Couldn't let you shower alone," his voice is lowagainst my ear, his breath is hot amid the steam. His cock nestles between my ass cheeks, sliding slickly as he rocks his hips, his length hardening fully against me.
"No sex… you are hurt!" I tell him and he presses a kiss on my temple.
"I don’t care!"
"You need to be careful. The wound…"
"I want you right now, Neo!"
I reach back, my fingers digging into his thigh, urging him closer while the water pounds around us, amplifying every sensation.
"I need to fuck you… right-fucking-now!" Nox's hand trails down my belly, dipping between my legs to part me. Moving in circles, feeling my juices mix with the shower's flow, clenching in anticipation. I gasp and push back against him, grinding my ass on his now rigid shaft. He growls softly and nips at my shoulder before guiding the head of his cock to my entrance, teasing the opening with shallow nudges.
"You took good care of me last night, nightshade…" With a single, fluid thrust, he buries himself inside me, stretching my walls around his girth. I cry out, my hands bracing against the tiled wall as the water cascades over us, turning our joininginto a slippery, heated frenzy. Nox grips my hips, his fingers bruise me in the best way, and begins to fuck me from behind—deep, relentless strokes that slap wet skin against wet skin. Each plunge drives him to the hilt, sending jolts of pleasure through my core.
