Page 31 of Lords of Ruin: Savage

When we were younger, when the nights felt too long and the world too cruel, Damien would sleep on my floor just like this. Like some silent protector, keeping the monsters at bay.

And now, years later, he’s still here.

Still protecting me.

Even when I don’t know what he’s protecting me from.

I curl into the blankets, my body sinking into the mattress as I watch him lying on the floor, his body stretched out like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The space between us feels vast, even though he’s only a few feet away. I should let it be. Should turn over, close my eyes, and pretend like this is just another night.

But I can’t.

“Damien.” My voice is quiet, barely a whisper against the hum of the waves outside.

He doesn’t answer right away, just shifts slightly, his fingers flexing against his stomach. “What is it?”

I hesitate. I shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t need it. But after everything—after the funeral, after the fight with my mother, after being ripped from my father’s house in the middle of the night—I can’t pretend I don’t.

“Come to bed.”

His head turns slightly, eyes locking onto mine in the dim light. His lips stay in a straight line, a flicker of emotion passing through his gaze before he speaks. “Willow?—”

“I can’t sleep like this,” I cut in, voice raw. “Not with you on the floor. Please.”

Damien exhales sharply, then pushes himself up, moving toward the bed without another word. The mattress dips under his weight as he settles beside me, stiff at first, like he’s still deciding if this is a mistake.

But then I shift closer, and his arm moves instinctively, pulling me against him.

The warmth of his body seeps into mine, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding me in a way nothing else has tonight. My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, and for the first time in hours, my pulse slows.

I don’t know what this means.

I don’t know what will happen when the sun comes up, or when the world will come crashing back in.

But right now, in this quiet, isolated place, I just need this. Need him.

And for once, Damien doesn’t pull away.

_________________

Damien

Willow makes me sleep in bed with her all week.

The first night, I told myself it was just exhaustion, that she needed comfort after everything. But then the second night came, and the third, and every time I tried to pull away, she reached for me in her sleep, murmuring my name like a prayer.

She won’t sleep until she’s curled up against my chest, her soft breaths warm against my skin, smelling like vanilla and sweet roses. Like home.

And I let her.

Every night, I let her.

But it’s dangerous—this quiet intimacy, this illusion of something more. I know better than to pretend this can last, but for now, I don’t have it in me to fight her.

This morning, I wake before she does, untangling myself from her warmth as carefully as I can. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her lips parting with a soft sigh as she burrows deeper into the blankets.

I run a hand through my hair and force myself to leave the room.

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