Page 70 of Midnight Whispers

CINDER

Iawaken in the same dream-like state I was in the night I found the door to the Ritual Room. Mist surrounds me once again, but I’m still in my bedroom. Pushing off the covers, I slide out of bed and walk toward the door, only I feel as if I’m floating instead of walking.

I don’t have any control over my movements as I creep past the threshold. The mist overflows into the hallway, and I can just barely see the flickering of the wall sconces. Still, I push forward as though I know where I’m going, where I’m headed, but I don’t.

The female voice from before urges me forward, calling my name.

I’m not sure how long I walk—it could be minutes, it could be hours—but eventually I find myself walking past the ballroom. I want to stop there. I like the ballroom. But I’m not allowed to.

Continuing down the hallway, the mist swirls at my feet. I find myself with my hand on the door to the aviary. Unlike the handle to the basement that night, this one is unlocked, and I push open the door, stepping inside.

Again, the mist clears as if someone snapped their fingers, and I’m back in control of my body again. I blink a few times when I see Nero sitting straight ahead with his back to me. He’s leaning forward with his hands pushed into his hair.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” I ask.

He startles, obviously not having heard me come in. “I could ask you the same thing.”

There’s pain in his eyes, though I can’t fathom why. I move to him and crawl onto his lap, hugging him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask in a soft voice.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “There’s something I have to tell you. Something I’ve been keeping from you.”

I stiffen on his lap but force myself to relax. All his other omissions I was able to handle. Surely this one is no different. “What is it?”

He heaves out a long sigh. “I was engaged, and I called off the wedding right before I started coming in to watch you dance. Before my obsession with you.”

Guilt weighs heavy in his eyes, and I don’t know what to do with it.

Because I’ve been lying to him too.

“Okay…” is all I manage to say.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was afraid you’d think you were a rebound or something, and you most definitely are not. I didn’t expect to get this attached to you. I thought my obsession with you would fade with time, but it only grew.”

I’d laugh at the irony if I didn’t want to cry. “Are you telling me this because you still have feelings for her?”

His eyes widen. “No! God, no. She turned out to be a liar of the worst kind. But I didn’t want you to think that I did if I told you too soon.”

I brush my fingers through the hair at the side of his head. “It’s not like I didn’t think you had any relationships before me.”

He shakes his head. “This is different. This was an engagement. We were months away from our wedding. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with Maude. Every time I tried to tell you, I’d balk. Then so much time had passed that I didn’t know how to bring it up. It’s just kept weighing on me more and more.”

The mention of her name is like an ice pick to my chest, but I stifle my cringe. Should I tell him who Maude is to me? I’m afraid to for the same reasons he was afraid to tell me about their engagement.

I open my mouth to confess, but that’s not what comes out. “I understand why you didn’t say anything.” I understand better than anyone. “But you should know that I don’t doubt that whatever you feel for me is real and has nothing to do with your past.”

“Really?” Hope springs in his eyes, dismantling the guilt.

I nod. “Really.”

I kiss him. Nero runs his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I open for him. Our pace is slow and sensual as our hands explore each other’s body. I push mine into his hair, and Nero rubs one hand over my breast, thumbing a nipple. It puckers, and he swallows my moan.

This man undoes me, and I did not see it coming.

Lips still on mine, Nero undresses me, slowly undoing the buttons on my pajama top and sliding the fabric off my shoulders. He kneads my naked breasts as I arch into his grip. My hands slide down to the hem of his T-shirt and pull it up and over his head, momentarily parting from our kiss. But as soon as the T-shirt is out of the way, he cups my chin and uses his leverage to direct my position in our kiss how he wants it.

He stands, lifting me with him in one swift motion, and I yelp, pulling away from our kiss.

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