Page 65 of My Undead Love Life

The clouds shifted overhead, but still, no stars appeared.

“The only place I could breathe was outside at night. They had a courtyard with high ass walls. Locked doors and cameras, too, of course. But if I stood in the right spot, I could see a strip of sky.” His gaze lifted. “That’s where my interest in astronomy started. I memorized constellations from the books in the facility library. I learned names, shapes, and distances. The stars were the only things in my life no one could lock up, buy off, or rewrite.” His arms tightened around me again. “They became freedom.”

“I can see that.” I looked up, too, even though the sky gave us nothing back. “What happened when you got out?”

“I went back to a just-as-fucked-up life.” His voice hardened. “Only by then, my sister hated me, too. Or thought she did. She knew I killed our father, but she’d blocked out why. Or Mom helped her bury it deep enough that she couldn’t reach it without falling apart.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that in theory. I didn’t let those bullshit doctors brainwash me.”

“Oxi.” I stopped looking at the sky and instead looked at him.

His green eyes flicked down and met mine.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I promised.

“My grandmother tried talking to me,” he said abruptly. “She tried to get me out of that house, and she tried to get Olivia away from Mom, but I had checked out by then. I was alive, but barely. I went through motions and let everyone think whatever they wanted.”

His hand shifted on my back, fingers flexing once. “Grandma gave me her cane sword after Mom turned me in. It had belonged to her father. She told me if my mother insisted on protecting a monster, I should keep cutting the monsters down.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I think I would’ve liked your grandmother.”

“She would’ve liked you.” His eyes softened. “She had a weakness for women with a strong will to survive and no patience for bullshit. She died just before the apocalypse.”

“I’m so sorry.” I leaned into him. “You didn’t deserve any of that, and for what it’s worth, you did the right thing.”

He stilled completely before a shudder moved through him.

I pulled back enough to look at him, and my heart cracked at his expression. Tears slid down his cheeks, bright in the weak moonlight. One caught halfway along his jaw, already freezing against his skin.

“Oxi,” I whispered.

He tried to look away, but I reached up and touched his face gently.

“Don’t hide from me.”

“Thank you so much, snowfire,” he said, voice breaking.

My heart skipped. “Snowfire?”

He nodded, his eyes moving over my hair where the red and white strands had escaped my hat and scarf. “Your hair. It reminds me of snow and fire.”

A small laugh escaped me. “That’s one of the better nicknames I’ve had.”

“What were some of the bad ones?”

“Red, or ginger.”

His mouth twitched. “Who called you that?”

“Probably someone dead now.”

He whistled low. “That took a turn.”

“Everything does eventually.”

His laugh was quiet, but it was real enough to loosen something in my chest.