“Definitely true.” I peek at him again from around the shadow of my arm. “So…Sam.”
Cal sighs and looks down at his hands. He absently rubs his thumb over the opposite knuckle like he’s trying to ease some of the tension in his joints. “I’m confident we’ll work through our stuff.”
I laugh through my nose. “Have you met Sam?”
He laughs too and leans back against the wall, hands now folded over his midsection.
My eyes start to droop.
“Get some rest, Jessie,” Cal says. “I’ll stay by your side until Duval returns.”
With that promise, I’m immediately out.
Episode Eighty-Four
GIVE IN TO ME, MOUSE
When I wake, I’m still shrouded in steam, but soft rose gold light fills the sauna. It’s coming from a half ring light installed in the arch on the back wall of the barrel. It reminds me of the Himalayan salt lamp Kelly bought several years back that she plugged into the front room. At night, it would instantly make the place feel cozier. But when Kelly got a little too tipsy on wine and accidentally knocked it over, cracking it, she never replaced it.
As everything of the last twenty-four hours comes rushing back, I’m overwhelmed with longing for the life I had. It was boring and lacking, and when I was in the middle of it, I hated it, but now it seems so blissfully simple.
Why did I ever take it for granted?
The Alpha caught me in one of my own stupid mistakes—I thought shedding the old me and embracing the fae-me would be easy. Even though everyone on the face of the planet knows that anything worth doing is going to be hard.
I never fit in that old, boring life. That’s why it was lacking.
Or rather, why I felt that void yawning at my core.
Every day I would wake up and feel like something was missing, never having the language or the capacity to put my finger on what. It’s why I always thought about leaving. I was searching for something to fill that void.
I can’t go back.
And if I could, would I choose to?
Simple isn’t always better.
I don’t think I would choose to go back.
“You’re awake.”
Bran’s voice startles me upright and I clutch at my racing heart and the towel drooping over my chest. I find him sitting in the front end of the barrel, hidden partially in mist and shadows.
“You scared me. I forgot how eerily still and silent vampires can be.”
He leans forward into the light, bracing his elbows to his knees. He’s fully clothed even though it’s bordering on stifling hot in here. “How are you, little mouse?”
To anyone who did not know Bran well, it would almost sound like he was indifferent to the answer. But I think I’ve come to know Bran better than most people at this point. He’s pulled back his protective layers and allowed me to see his vulnerabilities.
And I can detect the fragile lace of fear in his voice.
He is afraid of the answer. He’s afraid of things getting worse and being unable to save me.
It makes me want to immediately reassure him.
I take stock of my body.
I’m not shivering anymore, so that’s a good sign. I see no frost, no ice on the large rectangular window.