Page 73 of A Song of Shadow and Starlight

"It's not what you're thinking," he shakes his head. "Take my bed. I'll sleep in the chair."

"Oh, I couldn't do that." I glance at the armchair in the corner and protest, knowing he needs to rest his leg. "You wouldn't get any sleep on that and Finn -"

He shrugs, cutting me off. "I assure you, I can sleep just about anywhere. And don't worry about Finn. He already knows I'm not the most obedient patient."

I probably shouldn't stay, but I'm too ashamed to admit I'm terrified of going back to my room and being alone, so I relent, nodding my head.

"Alright," I rub up and down my bare arms. "Thank you."

He smiles, takes one of the pillows off his mattress, and slumps down in the armchair. "I hope you don't snore, Princess."

"Princesses do not snore," I scoff, and he barks out a laugh.

"Goodnight,Strenlys."

I still don't know what that word means, but I smile anyways, before I rest my head on the spare pillow. I turn on my side to get comfortable and inhale Atlas' leather and pine scent.

For several minutes, I stare at the wall, until I close my eyes and drift to sleep. It isn't long before I see Bastian's monstrous form again. I beg on bended knee for the Soul Eaters to stop torturing Atlas, but I'm forced to listen to him scream as his flesh is ripped to shreds. Tackled from behind, Vesper straddles my chest with a wicked grin, and slowly slides her knife across my neck.

I don't remember whimpering, and I certainly don't know when I started crying, but tears slip down my cheeks and soak my pillow.

The mattress suddenly dips behind me, and I freeze, my eyes flash open. Atlas snakes his tattooed arm around my waist and presses his chest against my back. "I've got you."

"Atlas?"

"Don't worry, we can go back to being enemies in the morning."

I relax in his embrace and close my eyes. This time, when I fall asleep, I dream of nothing, and that suits me just fine.

Twenty-One

I'mstirredfrommysleep by the rhythmic beating of a drum. As I blink my eyes open, I squint at the morning light streaming through the small window in Atlas' suite and I stretch. My head rises and falls from my pillow and when I slightly lift up my head, I realize I'm not lying on a pillow. I'm lying on Atlas' naked chest, listening to his beating heart. My eyes dart to my hip where his hand is resting. He's cradling me with one arm and the other is bent beneath his head. The thought of us being tangled together all night doesn't alarm me. I'm unnerved by how natural, how right, it feels for him to be holding me like this. So intimate, so tender. So, why do I feel like running out the door and not looking back?

He stretches, and his eyes begin to flutter. In a moment of sheer panic, I roll out of his embrace and off the bed. Hitting the floor with a thud, I hop back onto my feet to find him smirking at me.

"Good morning, Princess." He slowly sits up and reclines against the wooden headboard. "How did you sleep?"

I feel my cheeks flush and my belly heat, but instead of sprinting for the door like I want to, I clear my throat and say, "Well enough. Thank you for letting me stay, but I should get back to my room to get dressed for the day." I don't wait for him to respond before I attempt to retreat, but I trip over his boots and stumble, catching myself before I hit the floor a second time. I back away toward the door, and he watches me with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"I'll see you -" My butt bumps the doorknob and I hiss from the painful blow. I turn around, grab the brass knob, but stop when he says, "In case you're curious, you don't snore."

I whip around with a triumphant grin. "I told you I don't snore."

Why is he smiling at me like that? Like he has a secret he's bursting to share.

"But you do talk in your sleep."

Stars above and seas below. "You're lying." I hate that my voice shakes.

"And why would I lie?" he asks, slipping out of his bed. His chiseled body is haloed by the morning sunlight beaming through the window behind him.

"If you aren't lying, then what did I say?" I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest in defiance.

He rakes his hand through his disheveled locks. "You sure you want to know?"

I roll my eyes. "Just as I thought. You've got nothing -"

"You asked me if I hated you," he interrupts me, and I swear my heart stops beating.

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