Page 183 of Devoured

“You could have. You traveled here with two queens.”

I glare up at him and contemplate poking him in the chest. Then I think better of it. Touching Calix feels dangerous right now. “You are absolutely infuriating—”

“You should know better than to forget sunscreen. Melanoma affects werewolves too. And sun poisoning. What if you swell up—”

“Then, I guess you’d have to drive me to the hospital, Calix. Worse things have happened.”

He shakes his head, and his nose is so close that it brushes against mine. He is so close. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. “You drive me insane,” he says.

A truth.

“I barely tolerate you,” I lie.

And he leans in then. My eyes close. I lean in too.

But he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, his hand closes around my waist. His fingers brush against a curve of my skin, and I shiver as he whispers in my ear. “Have dinner with me, Hart. Tonight.”

It isn’t even a question. Not to him, and least of all to me.

Five apart, but it doesn’t even take five seconds for me to say, “Fine. If you insist.”

In the distance, on the rain-soaked beach, my phone rings. Evie again. The rain distorts it. Probably breaks my phone. But Calix and I ignore it. His plum-red gaze sears through mine, and I push a few locks of hair from his face. I mentally trace the arch of his dimple, the soft bow of his lips.

He is just as devastating as ever. Only now, whatever this is between us feels different. It feels better.

“Maybe an early dinner,” I say suddenly, glancing behind him. Toward his door, the window, and the room within.

He grins, and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “It’s two o’clock. Even the elderly would consider this lunch.”

I blink up at him. “Then, ask me to have lunch with you, Calix.”

Those fingers continue to trace patterns against my skin. They wander under the hem of my top. They feel exactly as they did five years ago, only now I am not afraid of them. I am not afraid of him or my feelings or anything that might try to separate us.

He must agree because he kisses the sensitive spot below my ear. He holds me tighter. “Do you want to have lunch with me, Vanessa?”

“God, yes.” My phone rings again, and he moves as if to look over my shoulder, but I wrap a hand in his shirt. I pull him closer. “Lunch, Calix,” I tell him.

He laughs. He pulls me inside his bungalow.

And the rest is history.

Dearest Vanessa Serafina Hart,

If you’re reading this letter, then the worst has happened and I have died.

Sorry. That feels a tad dramatic. However, it is also true, and perhaps my death deserves a little dramatic flourish. After all, no one appreciates a little dramatic flourish more than me.

Vanessa, I have to start by saying that I am sorry.

I have put you through more than anyone on this Earth should endure, and I realize my apologies can’t heal any of the wounds I inflicted on you. I am well aware of every mistake I’ve ever made. I only hope I can reverse some of my bad karma. I only hope I can leave this place better than I left it.

The odds of my survival are limited, and I am okay with that. Strangely, I feel more at peace now than ever before. It’s always felt like my skin is too tight for my body. I have never quite fit into the boxes I’ve been forced into. Golden prince or golden traitor or anything in between. But this finally feels right. I never wanted to be a prince. I never wanted to be a murderer or a liar. But I did want to be a hero.

I wanted to save Calix, save you, even save myself.

And now I finally have a chance to do so.

Tomorrow is our Mating Rite. I have looked forward to this day since I called your name at the Ascension. I wish so dearly that it could be real. But I saw the truth in your dream, even after you tried to compel me to forget it. Vanessa, angel, you cannot compel anyone in a dream. I’m glad you didn’t know that, however. I’m glad you were kind enough to give us the chance you did. But I needed that truth. I needed to know your real feelings. Calix’s real feelings.