Page 109 of Yearning For Her

“Home. Doesn’t that word imply more? A sense of comfort, of belonging? Of living?” He scoffed. “I’ve existed here. But only in the last month have I lived at all.”

I’ve spent four hundred years experiencing everyone else’s joy like a…a fucking voyeur. Despite how many people I’ve been with, I have never once felt like I was part of anything. I’ve always been on the outside. I’ve always been…alone.

Her heart constricted for him. To have been alive so long, merely existing?

The elevator announced its halt with a gentle ding. Willow faced forward and drew in a steadying breath.

A penthouse apartment. A freaking penthouse apartment. She had no idea what to expect, especially not from a place owned by a four-hundred-year-old incubus.

The doors glided open.

The space before her was sprawling and open, though the colors made it feel smaller. Tiny, dim lights in the ceiling cast a glow more suited to a show room than a home. The gray wooden floor had slanted slats that formed alternating arrow patterns, and the walls were a combination of modern gray brickwork and black wainscotting with a vaguely Victorian flair.

Kian led her out of the elevator. Ahead were long black couches over a black rug, matching end tables and a coffee table in black, silver, and clear, polished glass, and a long, glass-enclosed fireplace with more of the intricate brickwork at the base. A huge TV was mounted on the wall across from the larger couch. Every pillow looked perfectly arranged, every remote control was exactly in its place. Even the coasters were neatly stacked, as though they’d never been used.

There was a huge black bookshelf against one wall, filled to the brim with books, a black piano in another corner, and a violin propped on a stand beside it.

She understood perfectly what he meant now. While this place was stylishly furnished, it was dark and cold. Unlived in. There were no photos, no knick-knacks, no collectibles, souvenirs, or pieces of art that spoke of Kian, his character, or his experiences.

“One moment.” Kian reached aside and touched a control on the wall.

The fireplace blazed to life, immediately adding warmth to the room, and the curtains along two of the walls slid open.

Her breath caught in her throat. Floor-to-ceiling windowpanes looked out over the city.

“Welcome to the place I sometimes sleep, Willow.”

Willow walked to the windows. A spacious terrace wrapped around the outside of the apartment. Beyond that were the city lights, night sky, and stars. The view from the overlook he’d taken her to had been stunning, but seeing it from right here, in the middle of it all…it was a different sort of magical.

“This is beautiful,” she said.

She felt him approach behind her, and his reflection appeared on the glass, his pale face just over her shoulder. His blue eyes gleamed like the most brilliant stars against the backdrop of the night sky. Her gaze ran over his sharpened features, from his chin to his sculpted, pierced lips, up to those dark, expressive eyebrows, and higher still to the tips of his horns.

Really beautiful.

“With you here, it is,” he said. “You make it a view worth taking in.”

Blushing, Willow turned to face him. “Don’t you normally appreciate the view here? Otherwise, why bother having a place like this?”

His smile was uncharacteristically wistful. “Perhaps because I already felt apart, and this place allowed me to also feel…above. From here, I could always look down upon my prey.”

She stepped closer to him, reached up, and flattened her palms against his chest.

Kian covered one of her hands with his, hooking a finger from the other beneath her chin to tilt her face up. “Is this sorrow for me, little mortal?”

“I know what it feels like to live in two separate places and feel unwanted in both.”

“Ah, Violet,” he rasped, releasing her hand to wrap an arm around her.

She smiled, running her palms up to his shoulders and threading the fingers of one hand through his long white hair. “I’ll always want you.”

He tipped his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He held her for a time, somehow gentle and possessive at once, before he said in a low voice, “There’s something I want to show you.”

Opening his eyes, he stepped back and took her hand. Willow followed him across the living room and past the spotless kitchen, where she glimpsed not a single utensil, pot, pan, or appliance apart from the microwave and huge fridge. They continued into a hallway with several closed doors on either side—all, unsurprisingly, black. The dim lights made those doors seem almost imposing, amplifying the mystery of what was behind them.

He stopped at the last door on the right. It looked like all the others, but as he reached for the handle, Willow swore she spied a smudge of purple on the metal fixture.

The door opened into a dark room. The curtains only allowed a bit of light through, turning everything in the room into looming, indistinct shadows. She entered behind Kian. The glow of his eyes fell upon nearby objects, but it wasn’t strong enough to reveal what they were. It almost seemed like a room filled with furniture covered by sheets.

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