Page 68 of Revenant

His expression doesn’t change—if anything, he looks more entertained. Elias had mentioned abilities—powers each of them carried after being turned—but I never asked for specifics. I didn’t think I needed to. Now I’m starting to wish I had.

“You’re not funny,” I mutter, even as my pulse starts to race.

He takes a step toward me, removing his shirt in one swift motion. My eyes track each movement, both sides of me warring with anticipation and fight or flight. He doesn’t say anything as he discards his shirt with mine, kicking his shoes off, not bothering to remove his jeans, like his mind is already made up. That’s one thing about Bastian I find so alluring. There’s no hesitation in his decisions, no second-guessing himself if what he’s doing is the right thing. Once his mind is made up, it’s final. Taking charge and not accepting anything less than what he wants.

It’s refreshing and terrifying in the same breath. It’s not just him. I find myself craving their presence constantly; it’s the closest I’ve come to feeling secure since I was a kid.

But in the silence, my mind begins to wander back to the incident that transpired not too long ago. How Eryx’s body felt on top of mine, how his weight was suffocating—damning. My hand moves absentmindedly, each swipe of the soap harder than the last, trying to scrub the feeling off.

I don’t feel Bastian’s presence behind me until he’s reaching for the bar, halting my movements and forcing my gaze to his. Tattoos mark every inch of his skin, telling stories and holding memories I find myself wanting to know—wanting to be a part of.

“Between the water temperature and the scrubbing, I’m afraid there won’t be much left of you.” His words are soft, brows subtly pinching together like he’s committing each of my freckles to memory. Bastian’s eyes don’t wonder; instead, they stay glued to my face, as if he’s not the least bit concerned that I’m naked and this is the most natural thing for us.

Maybe it is.

“I’m not so sure that would be a bad thing,” I admit, the words getting caught in my throat as tears sting the back of my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, his features only harden, almost like he understands what I mean, but hates that I feel this way.

Bastian begins moving the bar soap over my body, tenderly and with not nearly as much force as I was. The bar touches the side of my neck where Eryx fed, and despite Bastian’s gentle touch, I flinch. The memory still too fresh. “Sorry,” I mutter, letting a tear roll down my cheek and hoping he thinks it’s just a drop from the shower head.

His fingers grip my chin, forcing my red eyes to tell him exactly how I’m feeling. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me.” He says it with conviction, like my resistance is irrelevant. His eyes move from mine, zeroing in on the two puncture marks on my neck. He swipes a thumb over the reminder.

I’m afraid it’s always going to be there, a phantom mark that will remain even after the punctures fade. Part of me wonders if I’ll ever be able to go back to my room. “Can I stay here? Do you think Koen would mind?”

A steady breath ghosts against the back of my neck and my thoughts scramble instantly. I’ve overstepped. I must have.

“Spawn, if you thought you were sleeping anywhere other than one of our beds, you’re sadly mistaken.”

A faint smile finds its way onto my lips despite everything that has happened.

“And just so you know,” he continues. “You’re staying with at least one of us for the foreseeable future. If that’s what you want.”

Slowly, he leans down, and it takes everything in me to remind myself he’s not Eryx, and that for all intents and purposes, I’m safe. Despite that, my body locks up, my lungs tightening as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my head in the opposite direction. Until his lips land on the most sensitive spot, placing a tender kiss over the mark, as though he’s trying to reshape the memory—twisting it from fear into something that almost resembles affection. My chest heaves, and he gives me space, letting me work through it while staying close enough to remind me he’s there when I’m ready.

The stupid organ in my chest beats against the cage I’ve locked it in, overwhelmed by the gesture. Bastian doesn’t say anything, instead continuing over my body like he didn’t just set my soul on fire. To my surprise, he doesn’t linger, doesn’t take extra time in my most sensitive areas. Instead, he treats it all the same, cleansing me from the sins of his friend that will inevitably keep me up at night.

My teeth begin to chatter, the water becoming slightly colder, and he reaches down wordlessly, almost shutting the cold water off completely. “Aren’t you going to boil?” I ask.

“I’d walk through the burning gates of hell just to bring you back its hottest embers if it meant making you happy, spawn. A little hot water isn’t going to deter me.” His admission catches me off guard, and I don’t have it in me to respond. How can I? He takes my silence for what it is and places the soap back where it belongs. Tipping my head back, I make sure each strand gets saturated before completely giving him my back.

I hear him open and close the shampoo, lather it in his hands before they find my scalp, massaging it into my roots. As if he could get deep enough to wash the memory from my brain.

“You know, this isn’t quite fair,” he says, turning me around so I can rinse.

“What’s not?”

I catch the corner of his lip quirk up as I face the other side, ready for my second wash. “That after we’re done here, you’ll smell like Koen.” To my own surprise, I crack a smile, shaking my head at his absurdity.

“That’s what you’re thinking right now?”

“Truthfully, I was half tempted to go get mine. But decided leaving you alone wasn’t in your best interest. There’s always next time.”

Next time. It doesn’t come out like a question, just something he’s already committed to. As if he’s certain us showering together is going to be a common occurrence.

“If I have anything to do about it, it will be.”

I whip around, ignoring the sting from the soap dripping into my eyes. “Explain,” I demand, which only makes his smile grow.