A Legacy of the Damned: Daughter of Astaroth

Chapter 45 - The Family Curse

All fight is suddenly drained out of me and I slump back against the wall of his hard warm chest. My head falls on the curve of his shoulder.

I'm exhausted. The emotional roller coaster this morning is draining. That was the first time I ever talked about Freyja with anyone and now I'm feeling raw and exposed.

"You really don't care that I'm a monster?" I ask him. My voice comes out sounding hesitant, unsure, and vulnerable and that's totally new and genuine.

I was unscrupulous and uncaring after Freyja. But he reminds me how to feel right from the first moment we met.

"I don't care. No matter what, you're mine and as I said before, I'm not letting you go." His arms around me are tight and possessive. "And you're not a monster."

The way he said those words...full of conviction. Like he truly believes them. There's an unusual warmth in my chest that causes my throat to tighten and my tears threatening to fall.

"And no, you wouldn't have to hide the knives," I mutter, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't need the knives. I'd have smothered you in your sleep with a pillow."

The noise that he makes at the back of his throat sounds like a cross between a chuckle and a groan. "Princess," he groans against the back of my head, then he sighs and relaxes against me with his clean-shaven cheek resting against my temple.

We sit in content and companionable silence for a few seconds before his body tightens as though a thought occurs to him. He then spears his longs fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck to grip it firm enough to guide my face up to his. "Would you really? Would you smother me with a pillow if you had the chance?" He's watching me with glittering eyes but he seems more amused than genuinely curious.

"No, of course not," I reply, with a frown. "You're bigger and stronger than I am, I wouldn't be able to hold you down for long."

"Is that the only reason?"

I blink and lower my eyes from the intensity of his watchful gaze. That's not the only reason but I don't want to examine the other reasons right now.

"I'm tired," I tell him.

He let his head fall to rest against mine as though he's disappointed with my response and I feel his deep inhale and exhale of breath through the rise and fall of his chest. He brushes a light kiss on my temple before he says, "Alright, let's get you to bed."

"You don't have to carry me," I tell him when he lifts me up. "I can walk," I say, but he ignores my protest and carries me a few feet to the bed. Then he lays me down before he stands beside the bed to take off my shoes and roll off my socks. After that, he sits at the edge of the bed to take his own shoes and socks off.

"You don't have to lie down with me," I tell him before he climbs into bed to lie down next to me. It's barely noon and today is Monday, he must have other things to do. He's a busy man, he works on Saturdays for goodness sake!

"I don't have to, but I want to," he says, reaching out to tuck me into him. "Now go to sleep," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head.

I close my eyes, inhaling the smell of his cologne and natural addictive male scent. His warmth is enveloping me, the beating of his heart is steady in my ear and I've never felt safer.

I'm tired but my mind can't rest. A few minutes later, I open my eyes. "Did you really mean it when you said that you loved me?"

He lets out a deep sigh and removes his arms from around me to lie on his back with his hands laced together behind his head. He's staring at the ceiling when he breathes out, "Yes."