Page 110 of Seducing Hope (The Hope Legacy)

“The whole gang. Maybe we should have a group meeting?” she snaps.

“I’m so sorry.” The grief on his face seeps into his tone.

“Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.” She wraps herself back up in the blankets and hunkers down in my bed.

Duncan looks confused. “Don’t you want me to take you home?”

“I’m not ready to face them yet. Give me time, Duncan.”

He looks at me. I shake my head and return to lay beside her. Her pulse beats rapidly in her neck, whilst her jaw is locked tight. Her eyes bore straight into my soul, her pain cutting it out slice by slice. She glances at my lips and looks away. I debate grabbing the bastard from the depths of hell and tearing him into strips over many years, but I don’t move.She needs me more than she needs my wrath unleashed in her honor.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Natia

Taurus—your will is stronger than a thousand armies, and it takes a lot for someone to break you mentally.

Pale blue sheetspulled over my face dim the sunlight dancing through the trees outside my bedroom window. The sun has no right to be shining, like it’s been doing for the last four days, mocking me with its cheeriness. Combined, it makes up the one week of sunshine Seattle has gotten this December. It’s as if the heavens themselves are laughing at me.

I groan as my bladder demands my attention and throw back the sheets. I blink at the full force of the sun and head to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the dressing table mirror—I’m a mess. My hair has formed an impressive nest on top of my head, my eyes are dark, my complexion is pale, and my teeth need brushing. Sighing, I deal with the last one; it’s the easiest to rectify, I suppose.

Teeth relieved of their bacterial fur, my stomach groans in protest at the lack of food I’ve eaten in the last four days. I shuffle to the kitchen. Two heads appear over the top of my sofa.

“Nice to see you up,” Duncan greets me, giving me a tight smile. I ignore him. There are at least two of them invading my house at any given time, standing guard against an enemy already dead.

I yawn loudly. “Go home, guys… I’m fine.” Despite spending all my time in bed, sleep evades me. When I do sleep, I wake screaming, feeling phantom steel at my neck. I locked my door after the first time the guys piled into the room and found me clutching my blankets, trembling and gasping.

“Can I make you something to eat?” Zee asks.

“Not hungry,” I mumble, glancing at him. I wish I hadn’t. I can’t stand the look of pity and worry etched on his face.

The side door swings open, and Uncle Charlie strides inside, a look of shock on his face as he takes in my appearance. “You look terrible, Natia. It’s time to get up and let us help,” he says, trying his authoritative tone on me. Pouring a glass of orange juice, I ignore him and shuffle back to my bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Sleep comes and goes. The sunlight, which makes the silvery blue swirls on my wallpaper sparkle, turns dull. I couldn’t face going back to HQ. The places where I haven’t been attacked are shrinking. I’m lying on my back, counting the small cracks in the ceiling for the third time, when my nose crinkles. The scent of dark chocolate, sandalwood, and vanilla swirls around my nostrils—Archan.

Rolling into a fetal position, I bury my head under the sheets.Each evening, when the sun falls and the darkness rules, he returns to lie next to me in a silent vigil—my pulsing star amongst the shadows of my mind. He doesn’t push, doesn’t try to placate me with words of comfort that would only fall on deaf ears. No, somewhere in his long life, he’s learned to create solace with his presence alone—or maybe he just doesn’t know what to say. Archan’s a man of action, reprisal, a warrior that demands vengeance.He’s an avenger without a foe, so instead, he attempts to slay the demons crawling in my mind without speaking a word or lifting a finger.

Tonight is different, though. A cool breeze tickles my skin as he lifts the sheets. I clutch them, expecting him to drag them off. Instead, he climbs under. Warm hands pull me into his body as he wraps around me. His hot breath fans my neck as he strokes my hair; the calming motion lulls me to sleep. He holds me as I scream at the monsters hiding in the shadows and cry out at the phantom pain. Sometime in the night, I wrap myself around him, but when the sun rises, he’s gone. Instantly, I miss his warmth and safety, but feel stronger.

Drawing in a massive breath, I fling off the sheets and stalk to the bathroom, showering and dressing for the first time in five days. Hair still damp, I head to the kitchen and find the whole gang in the living room. Uncle Charlie, Jed, Zee, Aaden, and Duncan stop talking and stare at me. I pop bread in the toaster and start brewing some coffee.

“Anyone want anything?” I ask nonchalantly. Nobody moves, so I raise an eyebrow.

Jed recovers first, running a hand through his blond-tipped locks and walking over with an empty mug extended. “Coffee, please.”

“Milk and sugar?” I ask, as I retrieve the butter and milk from the refrigerator.

“Just milk.”

Aaden opens his mouth. I can tell by his expression he’s about to ask about my feelings and so forth. I raise my hand and stop him. “If you want me here—stable, talking, and out of bed—don’t ask me how I’m feeling, how I’m sleeping, or if there is anything you can do.” The toast jumps up, and I grab it and start smearing it with butter. “I’m okay, I have nightmares, and the best thing you can do for me is treat me normally.”

Jed studies the contents of the refrigerator as I pour some coffee and milk into his mug. “Whose turn is it to do the shopping? All we have is cold pizza,” he mutters.

“I’ll have that,” Zee calls, still watching me. Uncle Charlie stands and heads toward me. I stiffen, expecting him to hug me, but he pauses, noticing my body language.

“Love you, Natia.” His voice is soft.

I force a smile. “You, too.”

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