Chapter 51
Josephine
Kylian wasn’t kidding about the size of the bed in the Den. The three of us fit easily. In fact, it’s so large that I wake sometime in the night, shivering, because neither of my boys are cuddled close.
Kylian’s flat on his back, off to one side, well and truly asleep. Nicky’s got an arm draped loosely around my hips, but he’s not holding me close enough to share his body heat. I’m tempted to snuggle up against him, but even though he swears he’s past his flare, I won’t risk causing him pain.
Quietly, I peel myself out of bed. As I do, my shivers intensify.
I packed for the evacuation quickly and carelessly.
Without much thought, I threw a few changes of clothes and my regular toiletries into a bag.
Even if I’d had more time, I wouldn’t have many options.
My wardrobe consists mainly of clothing ideal for the typical temps of North Carolina, not for sleeping through cold nights in a basement in a cabin built into a snowcapped mountain.
I’d have to put on everything I own to be warm enough down here.
There are a few items of clothing on the floor, but the selection isn’t much better than what I arrived with. Locke runs hot, so he came down wearing nothing but sweatpants, and Kylian redressed before falling asleep.
I snag Nicky’s oversized black joggers off the floor and step into them. I have to roll the waistband three times to make them stay up. Then I find and slip on the tank top I was wearing earlier.
Accepting that this is the best I can come up with in the dark, I venture upstairs in search of more layers. Or even an extra blanket.
The house is quiet, the sound of my bare feet against the hardwood steps echoing off the exposed timber of the cabin.
It’s a beautiful place. Cozier than the mansion and not nearly as sleek or showy. It feels more like a home.
Yawning, I step into the living room and immediately spot a stack of blankets near the fireplace.
“Yahtzee,” I mumble, beelining for the pile.
I grab one and wrap it around my body like a robe, moaning at the feel of the ultrasoft fabric and its plush thickness. I take two more blankets from the stack, then turn to head back to the Den.
But when I spin, a hand catches my shoulder. Another gently presses against my lips.
“Don’t scream,” he rumbles.
Gasping, I stumble back and look up into the onyx eyes of Decker Crusade.