"I still wonder about it," I said.
His brow furrowed, eyes searching my expression. "Wonder about what?"
"Whether you're the villain in my story."
~~~~~~~
Mara Monroe is at the center of a war she wanted no part in.
But with her new throne she fac...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I was content to pretend like the outside world— the world that waited outside of the small room in the vampire horde— didn't exist. Inside the room was much nicer. My body was tucked neatly between Cedric's legs, one of his arms wrapped loosely around my waist and the other had a hand in my hair working out the knots that had formed due to our... physical activity. The man who was always cold wind and ice, felt warm. Cozy, even.
I ran my finger over one of the scars on his forearm. Essence, the spark inside me, seemed to ready itself, sending a need to heal. To fix. But I let the urge pass. Heeding Cedric's desires.
"Which one hurt the most?" I asked, curiosity finally winning out.
"Seeing you dance with him was the worst, I think," Cedric mused aloud, his fingers working through the strands of my hair. His eyes watched as each piece fell through, contentment filled his expression, contrary to the words he spoke.
I pushed myself off of his chest to look at him. "Seeing me dance with who? What do you mean?"
"With Andras," he explained, "at the Yule celebration. You danced together and you were wearing that damned red dress."
"You liked that dress," I argued and he chuckled, nodding.
"Yes, I did, Mara love. Though 'like' seems too weak a word." He pressed a kiss to my temple.
I frowned. "I was talking about your scars."
"It's a type of scar... watching the two of you. It looked like you were dancing at your wedding. And I imagined it too. I stood there, watching, realizing that was what should happen. The Summer court would forever be aligned with the Winter court. And Andras would make you happy. He would be good to you."
My palm cupped his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb.
"So... do you think I should give him my number?"
His eyes widened at the seriousness of my question. Finally, I couldn't contain it and my smile broke out on my face. Cedric's expression shifted, noting my humor and squeezed my hips in punishment. I tried to wriggle away but he kept me firmly against his chest, giving me a teasing glare.
"I'm not sure he knows how to work a cellphone," Cedric added.
"We could make it work," I remarked, pretending to think. My hand went to his cheek again, feeling the slightly overgrown stubble on the sharp angle of his jaw. "But there's one small, tiny problem."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"You," I murmured and he drew a breath, "I think that maybe you're right about me and Andras. About what it would mean. But you and I are the same. A reflection of who I am. Sometimes bad, but mostly good. You say the words I need to hear, but don't want to. You force me to be better, to be stronger. You remind me that I can be."
