Page 64 of A Sin So Pure

Tea, I remind myself. That’s what I’m searching for. Not fantasies of kissing Nora in a bubble bath.

I hadn’t caught all the details of the apartment last night, having been pulled straight to the bedroom by the ravenous woman before I could get a good look. But entering the main living area, I’m struck by how distinctlyNorait is.

Dark and inviting, but not overly personal, the walnut shelves, green wallpaper, and brass sconces play perfectly with the well-worn couches and musty smell of leather-bound books. Windows line the far wall, overlooking a small bar cart full ofcrystal decanters. Emerald-green velvet couches and armchairs sit before the fireplace, same as in her office. Below the intricately carved mantel, a fire crackles low, mere glowing embers.

But my gaze catches on what’s mounted above the mantel—my arms wrap around my waist, and my heart drops into my stomach.

Wings.

A pair ofSeeliewings.

They are spread wide, a four-pronged pair that shimmers a near-translucent green in the morning light. The upper wings are edged in a thick line of black that curves and thins as it crests the lower edge of the wings. At their center, the darkest black, like an ink spill, spreads. Matching eyespots sit at the center of each lower wing, and trailing at the bottom, the wings taper and curl in on themselves like ribbon.

I’d seen depictions of them in books, renditions in childhood faerie-tales, but never in person. Though, this one is different from the old picture books. They were always lighter, brighter, thrumming with life.

These… aren’t.

It’s odd. I may be an empath, but the emotion swirling in my gut evades me. It’s not quite awe, and it’s not quite sadness.

“Snooping for secrets?”

I jolt, spinning around to find a smirking Nora leaning against the room’s archway entrance. She’s donned her own robe, the same crow-black shade as her hair, though it does little to cover her long legs.

“No,” I say defensively.

A lightning bolt of nerves strikes me as I worry that itdoesappear that I’m snooping.

Her smile only grows as she launches off the molding, prowling toward me predatorily. She catches me, arms wrapping around my waist, and gooseflesh spreads over my skin.

“No?” she asks.

“I was searching for a kettle to make some tea,” I squeak. All my muscles are tight and taut, stiff in her arms.

“Relax,” she says, and my body responds in kind. “I was just surprised to wake with half my bed empty. You’re the one who is always beggingmeto stay for cuddles.”

“Oh.”

Her nose runs up the side of my neck, stopping under my ear where she plants a kiss.

“Good morning,” she adds, laughter coloring her words. “Your heart is racing. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I huff, letting myself melt into her embrace.

“I was more surprised by the decor.”

Nora hums, her arms tightening around me a fraction. Her face is still sleep-rumpled, indents crisscrossing on her cheek from her pillowcase.

I spin in her embrace, my back pressed to her front, and stare up at the pair of wings.

“What are they?”

“Wings.” I feel her shrug at my back.

“I can seethat. I meant are they?—”

“Real?”

I hum, leaning my head back on her shoulder. Without my heels, she’s able to peer down at me. Her jewel-toned eyes search my face, for what, I don’t know, but a sadness darkens them all the same.

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