Page 80 of Bring Me Your Midnight

Wolfe’s feet touch the ground, the water pouring over his shoulders, but I don’t move. I stay wrapped around him, afraid that as soon as I let go, the weight of my decision will crush me until I’m nothing more than a grain of sand on the beach.

I slowly pull my head back and look at Wolfe, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight.

His breathing picks up, and he moves his hands to either side of my face. Water drips from his dark hair, his eyelashes, his lips. He looks so perfect it physically hurts.

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice rough. Accusatory. He searches my face, frantic, his palms pressed against my cheekbones.

“I became everything I’m afraid of being.”

Then I kiss him. His breath catches when my lips touch his, a gasping sound that turns me into something wild. I grasp at hisface, his hair, his shoulders, hungrily taking his kisses as if they’re air, the only thing keeping me alive.

He opens his mouth and groans when my tongue meets his, the sound moving through my whole body. My legs stay wrapped tightly around his hips, and he moves his hands to my back, pulling me closer.

Closer.

Closer.

I’m crazed, my lips finding his jaw, his neck, his temple. He tips his head back, his eyes closed, moonlight flooding his face. It completely undoes me. This boy has upended every part of my life, set my entire existence on fire.

I came alive when I met him, and I won’t pretend that I didn’t. I won’t pretend he hasn’t become vital to me, that he hasn’t enabled me to see myself exactly as I want to be seen.

My lips find his again. He tastes like the sea, my own personal ocean. My arms are tight around his neck, my fingers deep in his hair. When I finally pull away, he looks at me as if he’s taking in every vulnerability, every insecurity, every fear and hope and doubt. He takes it all in and kisses me once more, accepting everything I have to offer.

He is my daylight, my sun, my hours spent practicing magic. I know that now, and I vow to be the same for him.

But we aren’t confined to daylight. Here we can be whoever we want to be.

I watch him, impossibly beautiful in the moonlight.

I press my lips to his.

He comes alive in darkness, so darkness I become.

twenty-seven

Steam rises all around me in the large porcelain bath. I close my eyes, letting the water wash away the salt from the sea and the salt from my tears. But nothing will take away the image of my father frantically trying to reach me in the waves. Nothing.

There’s a heavy freedom that comes with what I’ve done. I’ve lived my entire life afraid of being selfish, afraid of searching out what I wanted because I knew all along that what I wanted didn’t matter. But I always thought I’d have the strength to be who they needed me to be, to disregard my own happiness because I believe so strongly in an alliance with the mainland. I was wrong.

I have a different strength, though, one I didn’t know I had. It takes strength to put duty and loyalty above all else, to find happiness in a life that wasn’t chosen—Landon’s strength. But it also takes strength to disappoint every person I’ve ever cared about because I’ve found something I believe in more.

I don’t have the kind of strength my coven was relying on,thatIwas relying on. But I am strong enough to choose something for myself that the rest of my world believes is wrong. And for someone who has lived by the measure of others for far too long, that’s an accomplishment.

I doubt I will ever stop caring. I doubt I will ever be fully comfortable with the enemies I’ve created and the heartache I’ve caused. But standing in Wolfe’s bathroom, knowing he is on the other side of the door, I wouldn’t take it back.

When I get out of the bath, a large black robe is waiting for me. I slip into it and wrap the belt around my waist. I towel dry my hair and let it fall down my back, and then I slowly open the door.

Wolfe is sitting in a large wingback chair in front of the fire. His chin is resting on his hand, and he’s looking into the flames, lost in thought.

The door creaks and Wolfe turns toward me. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him look nervous. He swallows as he takes in the sight of me, and I fight the urge to turn away, force myself to stand here in all my vulnerability and let him see it.

Let him see me.

“How was your bath?” he asks.

“It was just what I needed. Thank you.” I pull a blanket from the bed and put it on the floor in front of the fire. “Sit with me?”

He nods and sinks to the ground next to me. I lie on my side, propping myself up on my elbow, and he does the same. And for a moment, we just look at each other.

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