23. Sleeping with the Enemy
23
SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY
" T ry to sleep, pet." Bastian shut the door to her room gently and led Luella inside with a hand on the small of her back.
Another shiver wracked her frame, and she wrapped her arms around herself. The chain clinked from the movements, and the sound unnerved her. Reminding her of things she wished to forget.
"Let me help you," Bastian said, voice quiet, as he suddenly turned her to face him. He stretched out her arm, pressing an elegant finger against the chain, a few pieces of the thin links dissolving like dust and releasing her wrist from its grasp.
She breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of freedom. The chain hadn’t been too tight, but what it symbolized had been as constricting as being in the dungeons.
Luella looked up at the vampire, a few tangles of her golden curls swaying along her back. "Where will you be?" she asked, hesitant.
Fear made her voice a soft and meek thing; she would be forever marked by the things that had happened to her here in this den of wickedness. Even if she knew Treye would soon be nothing more than a lifeless body. She still felt eyes peering at her from shadowed corners, hands against her skin, leaving memory-filled bruises.
In the night, her room seemed too big and too dark. The canopy over the bed fluttered in the breeze that came from the cracked open doors of the balcony. She imagined spirits crawling from the white gauzy strips, suffocating her while she slept, and a whimper escaped her.
"I’ll stay," Bastian uttered, hands pressing shakily against her. He was cold, and that fact alone made the touches welcome. Luella didn’t think she could stand to be touched by someone warm right now. He swallowed, the noise far too loud in the quiet room. "I’ll do whatever you need. I hope you know by now you can trust me. At least, more than the others."
"I do," Luella said in reflex. But she was startled when she realized her words were not a lie.
She trusted him.
And she knew she could trust him more than the others—but how much more? Only time would tell.
For now, this delicately novel companionship they had forged would have to do.
Bastian had never done anything to directly harm her. Had even stuck up for her in front of the King. If loyalty could be earned, perhaps this vampire was beginning the long—almost never-ending—pathway toward it.
Call Luella reckless, she didn’t care, she wanted him to be with her tonight. If only to ward off the monsters she imagined lurking in the dark.
"Stay." She was pleased that her voice did not falter.
Red eyes searched her gaze for a moment before he nodded, cold hands ghosting over her shoulders, not quite touching. "Do you want to disrobe?"
Luella gasped. "No!" Her cheeks grew rosy. She hoped in the dim room, he couldn’t see how his words had affected her.
He chuckled, the sound warming her all the way down to the tips of her chilled toes. "Not in that way, pet. I meant for you to change into your nightwear." Plump lips curved as he mumbled something else under his breath. Too low for her to make it all out, but it sounded something like not yet .
"Okay," she breathed, looking down as her lashes cast shadows along her soft cheekbones.
Bastian opened her wardrobe, fingertips brushing along blush pink silks and woolen capes. He pulled a soft-looking, thin maroon slip from within. Holding it up before him, Bastian quirked a dark brow. "This will do." He wasn’t asking. The vampire pressed it into her hands. "Go change. I’ll be waiting. If you need help… don’t ask. Not if you don’t truly mean it."
His words left no room for interpretation—even for an inexperienced heirus like herself—and the blush on her cheeks darkened even more.
She would not ask of that from him. Never.
Even if her legs trembled like a newborn fawn as she walked to the bathing chamber, almost tripping on the hemline of her gown. Shutting the door behind her, she let out a long sigh, leaning back against the closed door. Luella held the thin nightgown to her chest, too tired to move as she gave herself a moment to gather the pieces of her scattered thoughts.
A deep chuckle carried to her ears through the closed door.
Luella knee-walked across the plush mattress, careful not to disrupt the array of blankets piled on top of it.
Or the vampire lounging against the many pillows crowded at the head of the bed.
Silently, Bastian watched her, a knee bent while the other was stretched out. His arms were behind his head, a pose of relaxed invitation. When she settled down as far as she could get from him without teetering off the edge of the bed, he huffed.
"That won’t do." Bastian dragged himself from where he was reclined, and quick as a whip, his cool arms snaked over her bare shoulders, with one wrapping around her slim waist.
She let out an indignant sound as she was pulled snugly to his side. This close, she could feel the unnatural chill radiating from his skin.
"I was more comfortable over there," Luella said, as she tried to remove herself from his iron grip.
Bastian tsked. "I don’t think so, pet. You were about to topple off the bed. I can’t be that horrible of a bed partner, can I?" He grinned and forced her to settle down with hands pressing her to lay back. Her cheek pillowed on his chest, and his fingers tangled in her hair.
She had brushed through the strands and removed the clip so the glide of his fingers was smooth as silk and comforting. She sighed languidly, toes stretching out before curling her knees up to her chest, the front of her legs pressed against Bastian’s side.
Luella stamped down the traitorous thoughts whispering in her mind, threatening to disrupt her fragile peace. Thoughts of violence and bloodshed. All while she felt ashamed at willingly finding comfort in the arms of her enemy.
She was tired. Shock still flowed through her. Treye’s unwanted touches against her neck constantly looped through her mind. She hadn’t had the chance to look yet, but in the morning, she was sure a bruise would be blooming on the delicate skin that he had squeezed.
"If you make one untoward move…" Luella warned sleepily, curling further into Bastian’s side.
Breath puffed on the top of her hair as he laughed. "Was that a threat?"
"If it was?" she mumbled against his chest, breathing in his rich bergamot scent.
"Then I’d have to counter with a threat of my own." His fingers stilled in her hair. "If you don’t stop tempting me, I’ll be forced to lay you down on these sheets and have my way with you. I can guarantee you’ll enjoy it. So perhaps it’s not a threat. More like a promise." She shivered. Bastian resumed stroking her hair, and his voice grew gentle. Quiet. "I wish I had been there so I could have stopped it."
Luella swallowed. "It was my fault. I l-left. I shouldn’t have."
"Promise me you won’t do that again. Don’t leave. I’m trying to protect you, Luella. I’m trying to keep you alive." The sound of her name on his lips made her flush. He made it sound so… sensual.
When she didn’t respond, he turned her face up to look at him, a cold palm against her cheek. His eyes were soft, the red webbing throughout the rich brown lighter than she had ever seen it. "Promise me."
Even though she knew it was a lie, even though she knew she had every intention of leaving at the first chance she could get, she still opened her mouth and said, "I promise."
He nodded, appeased for the moment, but the way his eyes searched hers, reading the things she left unsaid, she knew this topic was far from over.
"Get some rest. I’ll stay with you."
Luella curled herself along a body, arms wrapping around a firm stomach and a leg thrown over a hip as she attempted to meld herself to the comfort of the male beside her.
In her groggy, sleep-addled state, she couldn’t care less that she was being so forward.
Sleeping with her enemy.
Dreaming beside the thief of her thoughts.
Squeezing her eyes shut, a soft sound escaped from her lips at the memory of the scent of sour apples.
Someone shushed her, a hand stroking lightly over her hair, and she settled again, hugging the body even more fiercely.
The chest her cheek was on rumbled, words washing over her in her half-awake state. "This cannot happen again."
"It won’t." She knew that voice. It didn’t belong to the vampire under her. The tenor was too deep. Slightly scratchy, like the speaker didn’t use it a lot—Graves. "We’ll make sure of it. Azgorath will help us. The demon can’t be against us forever. Not now. Not when the protection of the castle is so weak. The Umbra is closing in, their numbers growing."
Bastian’s hand stilled against her scalp. "We thought she would be safe here with us, but his reach grows closer every day. We can’t hold him off forever."
"I know," Graves sighed, "I know. Have faith in the Fates. It won’t be forever."
Who were they talking about?
Azgorath’s reach? Or someone else?
She was too confused and sleepy.
Luella furrowed her brow groggily, fingers curling in Bastian’s shirt.
"You’ll wake her up," Bastian hissed in warning. A finger pressed against her temple, intense drowsiness settling over her and fogging her mind.
Had he done something to her…?
Graves mumbled a reply and grew silent, but she did not hear it.
The crease between her brows smoothed out, and she felt sleep tug at her. However, she didn’t want to leave; she wanted to hear more information and digest the meaning of it all once she woke.
But it seemed the choice was taken from her, sleep dragged her down, down, down into its clutches.
In the quiet of the room, right before she drifted off fully, Luella found herself missing Az. As the memory of unwanted hands touching her floated behind her closed lids, she found herself wishing he was here—wishing that he had been there when Treye had hurt her. Luella was certain if the demon knew about what had happened, it would’ve been a bloodbath.
She found she didn’t quite mind the prospect of bloodshed if her demon was the one doing it.