Page 30 of Chivalry is Not Dead

“Penelope.”

My head snaps up at the sound of Sanders’ voice.

Impossible.

He just disappeared. I saw it. He was there and then he wasn’t. And now he is.

I jump up and rush toward him, knowing I won’t believe it’s real until I can feel him. I slam into a hard body. Sanders lifts me up, twirling me as I wrap my legs around his torso.

“How—I-I don’t understand!”

I’m sobbing again. Well, still. I haven’t stopped since Sanders disappeared. I knew it was the right thing to do, to allow him to find the peace he’s been seeking for centuries, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I am here,” he soothes. “I am not going anywhere.”

His hand caresses the back of my head, a strong grip coming to the nape of my neck to encourage me to look at him. When I do, I can’t help but kiss him. All over his very real, very corporeal face.

“I thought I’d never see you again!” I exclaim between kisses. “I don’t understand how you’re here.”

“Let us go home and I can explain everything to you.”

Home.

Mine. And now his, if he wants it.

I barely detach myself from Sanders the entire walk home. I’m not sure if I ever will, to be honest. There was such a visceral heartbreak that occurred the second he left me, it will take time for my body to realize that he’s real.

That he’s here.

When I attempt to let us back into the apartment, my hands are shaking so bad that Sanders has to take the key from me. Once we are inside, his large hand envelopes mine and he drags me to the kitchen. With ease, he lifts me onto the counter, stepping between my legs so he can part my lips with his own.

His tongue finds mine, teasing and exploring. I could stay like this for eternity. Maybe I will stay like this for eternity.

Except Sanders pulls back. “You are hungry.”

I’m wha—my stomach growls as if on cue.

“How did you know that?”

His hand comes over my heart, a small smile curving his lips. “You accepted the bond.”

Did I? I close my eyes, looking for that thread inside of me. And—he’s right. I hadn’t even realized, but as soon as Sanders came back, it snapped into place. The frustrating tug is gone, and instead I can follow a golden light from my heart all the way to Sanders’. Now that I know what it is, there’s an overwhelming number of feelings that inundate me.

Relief, lingering heartbreak, love, and, of course, hunger. A mixture of his and mine.

He plants another kiss on my forehead before taking out two bowls and pouring both Reese’s Puffs and Cinnamon Toast Crunch into each, topping them with almond milk. Handing me one, he commands, “Eat. You will need your energy.”

“My ener—oh!” I feel the lust down our bond and suddenly know exactly what he’s talking about. “Naughty.”

“I have several centuries of making up to do.” He smirks.

“And we will,” I promise. “But first I want to know what happened when you left.”

He finishes his bite of cereal and then sets the bowl down. So this must be serious.

“Did you know your family lineage traces back to medieval England?”

I gasp, both hands covering my mouth. “What do you mean?”