Page 28 of Midnight Whispers

As though the bird understands him, he hops down off my shoulder and onto Nero’s extended arm.

“What’s your favorite bird?”

He doesn’t even take a moment to think of his answer. “The raven.”

I think back to the stained-glass raven we pass coming in and out of the south wing. “What made you want to collect birds?”

He walks farther into the space. “I don’t think of it as collecting. I’ve always liked birds. Since I was young, after I took in a bird that had been injured in the wild. I cared for it and then others, one rescue after another. Ones who probably can’t go back out into the wild and survive and need someone to look out for them, protect them.”

I’m realizing there’s more to Nero than meets the eye. There’s a waver in his voice, almost as though he understands what it’s like to need protection.

“You’re a good man, Nero.” The truthful words escape my lips.

He lifts his hand, and the bird flies off. “You wouldn’t think that if you really knew me.”

I meet his crystal gaze. “I already do.”

Chapter

Thirteen

NERO

It’s been almost a week since Cinder moved into Midnight Manor. I’ve tried to give her space and instructed the staff to bring her meals rather than force her to sit with my family in the dining room. At this point, I don’t trust my brothers not to cause issues.

I’ve seen her briefly, checking in to make sure everything is okay and that she has everything she needs. Of course, I still follow her any time she leaves the house. I watch her from afar, including the booth at T&T’s. We don’t discuss the fact I’m there, nor do we discuss what happened in the VIP room. It’s an unspoken agreement between us that we both seem to understand.

But every day, I grow more and more desperate to get closer to her. To touch her, feel her, and taste her.

So on my way to the aviary one afternoon, when I pass by the ballroom and hear music, I come to a stop. I sneak in through the doors and hide behind a column. I recognize the song playing as “Praying” by Kesha.

Cinder’s hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. The leggings and sports bra she’s wearing make my dick press against the zipper of my slacks. God, her fucking tits. She ebbs and flows to the music, her body and movements almost becoming one with the beat. My eyes fixate, unable to look away.

I knew she was flexible from seeing her at the strip club, but there she’s more rehearsed. She rolls and bends and stretches to the beat as if she feels the rhythm. At the club, she’s confident and powerful, a woman owning her destiny despite the dingy surroundings. But here amid all the wealth and grandeur, she appears vulnerable.

Her beauty tugs deep inside me, some younger version of myself that I sealed away decades ago. Watching her, that little boy, the one who was terrified of his father, who can barely remember the love of his mother, rises. Pressure builds behind my eyes, and they water—for what was, what could have been, and what never will be.

I could watch her dance all day. All night. Fucking forever.

That word is all I think about when it comes to Cinder. Forever.

I shake my head.

What the hell am I thinking? I need this obsession with her to fizzle out, but everything about her is like taking fans to flames, turning it into an inferno. Did I not learn my lesson with Maude?

The song crescendos, and she’s like a woman possessed. All the emotion in the lyrics is displayed in every movement of her body, and if it weren’t clear to me before, it is now. This woman is just as familiar with deep trauma and pain as I am.

The question is, do I want to dig up and examine her pain, try to help her get over the past? I remind myself that’s the kind of thing a man in love would do, and this is not that. No, this is a fleeting obsession that will eventually burn out.

The song slows to a close, and tears track down her face as she collapses onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. Another song that I don’t recognize plays, and Cinder doesn’t get up to dance. Instead, she curves in on herself and weeps.

It almost kills me to walk away from her in that condition. But I know myself. I can feel my obsession building and gaining more strength.

What Maude did to me messed me up, and I didn’t feel for her a fraction of what I do for Cinder. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it is. I just need some space from Cinder to get my head in order. Then I can be around her again and not risk completely falling for her.

Wanting to fuck her is one thing. Wanting to love her is quite another.

So I leave her crying in the ballroom, as much as it pains me, knowing it’s for the best.

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