Page 85 of Two Sides of Sin

I immediately pulled my arm back, shifting my weight to sit up on the edge of the mattress, running a trembling hand through my hair.

“Sage, I apologise,” I rasped, my voice thick with sleep and sudden guilt. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to overstep, I just…”

“Don’t,” she interrupted softly.

I stopped, looking down at her. She was propped up on one elbow, the scratchy wool blanket falling away from her shoulders.

“I’m glad you came back,” she whispered, her sleepy eyes searching my face in the glow of the rising sun. “I’m happy you’re okay. I was so worried.”

The sincerity in her voice melted me. I stared at her, genuinely stunned. “You were?”

“Of course I was,” she breathed, shifting closer to the edge of the bed. Before I could pull away, she reached out. Her small, warm fingers wrapped around my hand. I froze, terrified of dirtying her skin, but she held on tight.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice dropping, trembling slightly with the memory of the alleyway. “I think those guys would have done some really terrible things to me if you weren’t there last night, Julian. Thank you, sincerely.”

Looking down at her hand holding mine, the last bit of discipline and restraint I was holding onto evaporated.

“I would do anything for you,” the words slipped out of my mouth without thinking.

She looked up at me, her beautiful familiar eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Why?” she replied in a hushed, breathless voice. “Julian… you hardly know me.”

I have known you for lifetimes, the yearning, broken part of my heart screamed. But I couldn’t tell her that. Not yet.

I turned my hand over, gently weaving my fingers through hers. “I don’t know how to explain it,” I murmured, holding her gaze with a desperate, starving intensity. “I’ve just had this overwhelming sense of wanting to protect you since the moment I first saw you.”

I brushed my thumb over her knuckles, grounding myself in the reality that she was actually here, and she was actually holding my hand.

“When this is all over,” I said, my voice dropping to a gravelly, vulnerable rasp, “I’d really like to see you again.”

A slow, beautiful smile touched her lips.

“I’d really like that,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling as she looked at me.

The fragile, quiet bubble we had built in the corner of the vault shattered the moment the heavy security doors groaned open above us.

Harsh morning light spilled down the steps, accompanied by the deafening roar of heavy diesel engines and the shouting of commanding officers echoing across the cathedral plaza. The evacuation convoy had arrived.

The reality of the morning meant I had to let her go. I was a soldier actively deployed in a war zone, but more than that, I was a madman with centuries of blood on his hands with an immortal brother who was far colder and calculating, who would slaughter her the instant he realised who she was. I couldn’t be with her. Not yet. Not until I knew she was safe from him. I had to figure something out, and fast.

But watching Sage pack up her small bag, the crushing sadness in her eyes nearly brought me to my knees.

“Here,” I rasped, pulling a small, battered field notebook and a pen from the cargo pocket of my tactical pants. I scribbled down a secure phone number of mine and a mailing address. I tore the page out and pressed it into her palm.

She took the paper, her fingers brushing mine and grabbed the pen from my hand quickly writing down an address on the next page, tearing it out and handing it back to me. Her hand was shaking as she reached out.

“I will write to you when I can,” I promised.

I carefully folded her paper and tucked it into the pocket right over my heart.

She looked up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Thank you again, Julian,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “For everything.”

“Evacuees, move out! Boarding in two minutes!” a sergeant bellowed from the courtyard plaza above.

I walked her up to the plaza. The air was thick with the smell of diesel as the armoured convoy idling on the cobblestones prepared to move. Dozens of people were filing onto the crowded transport buses. I stopped at the base of the metal steps of the third bus, my hands shoved deep into my pockets just to keep from reaching out and dragging her back, to never let her leave my side, but she wasn’t safe here.