Page 43 of Avidian
I wakeup with my head pressed against Malachi’s chest, my arm and leg both draped over his warm, solid body. Oh God, I’m practically bear-hugging him. I freeze, trying to keep my breathing steady as I feel his chest rise and fall in the slow rhythm of sleep. I need to get out of this without waking him.
Carefully, I lift my head, only to notice something worse—there’s a tiny drool spot on his shirt.
Oh my God.
I must have been in a deep sleep to drool on him. This is beyond embarrassing.
I pull my arm back and start to lift my leg, glancing up at his face to make sure his eyes are still closed.
“Restful night?”
His voice catches me mid-sneak, and I snap my gaze up to find him already watching me, his eyes bright with amusement. He’s clearly been awake for a while.
I shove him away, sitting up and running a hand down my face in an attempt to gather some dignity. “Shut up.”
He chuckles, still lounging like he owns the world. “I was enjoying all the cute little sounds you were making in your sleep.”
I turn to glare at him, my side-eye sharp enough to cut. “I hope you’re joking.”
“Not at all. Adorable, really.” He grins, and it’s infuriating how good he looks first thing in the morning.
I throw the covers back and get to my feet, ignoring the warmth creeping up my neck. Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a long exhale and mutter, “You’re impossible.”
“And yet here I am, your favorite bedmate,” he teases, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and smirking like he’s won something.
“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” I say, crossing my arms and glancing toward the window. “Did you hear anything last night after I fell asleep? When do you think Marco will come for me?” All I want is to brush my teeth, shower, and get back to my room.
“I haven’t heard a damn thing,” he says, stretching like he has all the time in the world. “But that’s not surprising— I told you, most of these rooms are practically soundproof. It’s already 7 a.m., so I imagine my father will be coming to retrieve his precious demon pet soon. Don’t look too excited to get away from me.” His sarcasm is as sharp as ever, and I roll my eyes in response.
“I’m not excited to get away from you, and I’m definitely not excited to see Marco,” I shoot back, turning toward the bathroom. “I want to know we’re in the clear after last night and that know no one saw us or suspects anything.”
I step into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, hoping it will wake me up—or at least wash away the unease gnawing at the edges of my mind.
“I know Marco said we were both to stay in here, but I want to shower and change into my clothes. Can’t I go to myroom, and you can keep watch or whatever?” I step out of the bathroom, catching sight of Malachi mid-dressing. He’s already pulled on a pair of jeans, and my eyes betray me, catching on the dip of his waist and the muscles along his bare chest and arms. Damn it. I clear my throat and quickly turn toward the window, focusing on the snow-covered trees outside. Neutral. Innocent.
“Why don’t you get in the shower, and I’ll go grab whatever you need from your room?” he says, buttoning up his shirt, his tone annoyingly practical. “No one’s going to come looking for you in here, and the last thing I want to do is piss off my father this morning by not following orders.”
I hesitate, glancing back briefly before looking away again. “Fine. I have a small bag on the bathroom sink with all my toiletries in it—grab that. And I still haven’t unpacked one of my suitcases. It’s on the left side of the closet. Bring the whole thing so I can go through it myself.”
He smirks faintly as he adjusts his cuffs. “You don’t trust me to pick out your clothes? I’m hurt.”
“I don’t trust you to pick out anything without some kind of ulterior motive,” I shoot back, crossing my arms and keeping my gaze out the window. “Bring the suitcase and the bag. That’s it.”
“Got it,” he says, and I hear the faint sound of him slipping on his shoes.
I stay fixed on the snowy expanse outside as the door clicks shut behind him, letting out a slow breath.
Malachi still hasn’t returned,which feels odd. And now here I am, alone with Marco, who was already waiting when I stepped out of the shower. He says the last thing I expected to hear.
“What do you mean you’re sending me away?” I ask in surprise.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek immediately, trying to temper the edge in my tone. The last thing I want right now is to push his mood further into the red. He’s already tense, and I’ve seen what happens when he’s not in control.
I can’t help feeling frustrated. I was starting to—maybe, barely, reluctantly—enjoy Malachi’s company. Now Marco wants to send me away? This will ruin everything. Our plans, the mission to save more Avids, my slim chance at freedom...all of it. I knew better than to let hope creep in, but it still stings.
“I mean,” I try again, softening my voice, “I haven’t finished the case yet. I want to help you.”
Marco’s furrowed brows relax slightly, and he takes the chair across from the fireplace in Malachi’s room. His usual calculating gaze is heavier today, more serious, and it puts me on edge. I grip the towel wrapped around me, tucking it tighter for security before hesitantly sitting in the chair next to him.
