Page 84 of Haunted

I am.

I listened to her breathe peacefully beside me the whole night. She didn’t move; her body rested utterly still, except for her chest rising and falling. Fascinated, I watched each inhale and exhale.

Captivated, I counted her breaths.

One, she cares for me.

Two, she climbed into bed with me.

Three, she’s daft.

Four… my spirit calms. Her light instills me with a ripple of serenity. I draw her into me. My energy calls for hers.

One, her nose scoops delicately.

Two, her lips part, beckoning.

Three, I must touch her.

Four… I inhale deeply and stretch my fingers toward the center of the bed.

No, do not touch her. You will undo everything. Your control will shatter.

I pull my hand back and cradle it to my chest. I shift, needing to turn away from her but aching to turn toward her.

One, her graceful arm and slender wrist lies in the center of the bed.

Two, her creamy skin tempts me.

Three, a single touch can’t hurt. My hand moves without permission.

Four, my little finger glides alongside hers.

I exhale, relishing the warmth from such simple contact. I am touching my salvation.

I don’t move for fear of the cold of loss.

Our pinkies remained touching all night. I eventually drifted off in utter bliss.

Did Niawen wake to see our fingers touching? What was her reaction?

I jar from my thoughts when the library door opens. A guard brushes in.

I grip the arm of my chair. I do not want to leave my tantalizing memories, but the guard waits.

My nails drag along the fabric.

“My lord.” He waits.

I close my eyes. My face draws tight. I must face duty. I must go on with my day.

I’d rather seek out Niawen. I’m tempted to follow her energy signature throughout the city.

Instead, I wave my finger for the guard to speak.

“A man was brought in last night. He’s waiting for you in the great hall. He’s asking for Lady Niawen.”

I jerk upright. “Niawen?”

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