And it’s the first time I’ve admitted it, to anyone else or to myself.
. . .
I stare down at Haven while she sleeps in my arms. She stopped crying at some point in the shower, but she looked exhausted, so I told her she needed to take a nap. Once she was dressed in a sleep shirt, she started crawling into her cage. I grabbed her and hauled her onto my bed without thinking about it. I wanted her to be more comfortable, and once I got her situated, she pulled me down with her.
An hour later, I’m still here. My plan was to wake her up after thirty minutes, but she looks so peaceful. After her meltdown, I want her to have a break from her feelings. If I let her sleep longer, though, she’ll have trouble going to bed later tonight.
“Angel,” I whisper.
She doesn’t stir.
I shake her gently, and her eyes flutter but don’t open. When I do it again, she lets out an annoyed sound and burrows into me.
“You’ve gotta get up or you won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.”
“Five more minutes?” she asks sleepily.
Chuckling, I pull her into me. “Sure.”
She throws her leg over my hips, and my lips feather over the top of her head while she settles in again. Her body is warm against mine, and I’m half tempted to stay with her like this for the rest of the day.
The thought is as frustrating as it is confusing.
What the hell is happening to me?
This—washing Haven in the shower, holding her while she sleeps, and wishing that her lilac lotion didn’t cover up the scent of my soap—isn’t how my plan was meant to unfold. Sure, we agreed to take care of her, but not likethis.
By this point, she was supposed to be halfway to being a brainless toy who’d forgotten how to think for herself. Instead, we’re going soft on her.
I should throw her in her cage and lock her in there until morning. It’d serve her right for making me feel this way. I’m not eighteen anymore, and I’ve killed the tenderness that used to be reserved for her.
But I don’t move.
Maybe it’s a good thing she’s bringing it back.
I wish I could ignore that thought, but I can’t deny the truth in it. When we were kids, I was terrified of turning into my father, and I hoped Haven would save me from that fate. Without her, I’ve maintained most of my morals, but I can look back and see that they’re slowly slipping away.
Ever since Mark deemed me old enough, he’s been getting me ready to take over the Glass Rooks. I hate him—god, I hate him. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold any influence over me.
The fact that his ideals have taken root in my head scares me. I don’t want to turn into a heartless bastard who only thinks about power. And I can’t lie. Where Haven is concerned, that’s exactly what happens. I love forcing her to bend to my will no matter how much hurt it causes her.
If I’m going to take the Rooks from my father and bring us back to the principles the organization was founded on, then I can’t be that kind of man. I can’t turn my back on Haven. She never should’ve trusted Mark, but she doesn’t deserve the torment we’ve inflicted on her.
Maybe we never should’ve started at all.
Maybe we should’ve forgiven her that night.
Maybe I should now.
With a sigh, I wrap my arms around Haven. It’s probably been more than five minutes, and I need to get up so I can find something to distract myself with. All this thinking is making my head hurt.
“Angel, it’s time.”
Haven lets out a tortured whine, and I realize my thigh is pressed in between her legs. She rubs herself against me lazily.
Oh, shit.I forgot about Lucas working her up and then refusing to let her come. Her body is probably still reeling from it and trying to seek release.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” I warn. “You keep doing that, and you may not like what I do.”