Chapter 3
ELODIE
The shower sprays down on me in a failed attempt to wash away my clawing emotions.
Thorne insisted it might be good for me, but he’s grasping at straws.
Tilting my head to the side, my gaze lands on the vials sitting perfectly on the vanity across the room.
They may be out of my reach, but like hell will they be out of my sight.
They’re my lifeline right now, and I can’t let go of them completely.
Taking a deep breath, I feel a little more grounded than I did earlier, but not enough to feel like my usual self, and that pisses me off. I brush the droplets of water off my face, slicking my hair away from my eyes as I tilt my face to the water.
I can feel the heaviness of the world on my shoulders while simultaneously feeling weightless, like I'm nothing. I have never felt so out of touch with myself. Like I don’t know who I am at all.
My pulse thrums in my ears, as it has since the moment the vials of blood sat in Thorne’s hands in the exact same color and I realized my life wasn't what I thought.
But more than that, my mind is now starting to focus on what my next steps need to be, while also being desperate to hide away from the world.
I’m trapped in a constant back and forth that I can’t escape.
I know I need to draw the rebellion out, but how I’m going to pull that off… I don't know.
Thorne doesn't either. Neither of us had the answers as we sat on the rooftop side by side, entrenched in a moment we couldn’t truly understand.
Yet the silence that engulfed us wasn't strained or riddled with despair.
It was content, like the promise that dawn will rise with an answer.
We just have to wade through the dusk before it settles to reach the first glimpse of the sun.
I use that thought to guide me to the light, to the right answer, but it’s easier said than done.
Every time I feel propelled by motivation, my mind tingling on the cusp of a solution that would end this now, it is quickly snuffed out like a switch, leaving me drowning in darkness, seeking things I can't quite reach.
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze the ends of my hair out, letting the water fall at my feet as a whoosh of air dances around me. Glancing over my shoulder, I'm only half surprised when I find Rion leaning against the door frame.
My skin heats under his gaze as he takes his time looking me over, blessing me with those alluring eyes from head to toe and back again. I take the distraction he offers, soaking him in too.
I'm obsessed with the way his frame fills the doorway, how small he can make me feel. But it's that new gentleness to his eyes, the soft curl to the corner of his mouth, and the way the air changes around him like static energy ready to explode that captures me every time.
His eyes finally meet mine and my cheeks heat.
“Hey, Petal,” he rasps.
There's another reason I’m obsessed with him: that damn nickname.
Clearing my throat, I try to muster the best smile I can. “Hey,” I reply as he lets the door click closed behind him before prowling toward me. “I won't be a minute,” I offer, the heat radiating even hotter through my limbs as he draws closer, but he shrugs, unfazed.
“Take your time,” he insists, leaning against the vanity.
My lips part, ready to stop him, but when he doesn't block the vials from my view, my lips clamp shut once again.
His eyes turn hooded as he watches me, and I find a tingle of nerves drifting through my body.
“Are you really going to watch me?” I ask as he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip.
Folding his arms over his chest, he smirks. “It would be my honor,” he says, his grin widening, but I quickly wave him off and turn my attention back to the water.
Attempting to go about my routine, I fail miserably under his attention. When I dare to look back at him, it's no surprise to find him still staring at me, but his gaze is not roaming over my body like I expect. His eyes are locked on mine.
I stutter, my instincts prepared for sympathy, but that's not the emotion I see. Yet, I can't quite decide what it is either.
“What's going through your head?” he asks, cutting through the silence, and I gulp.
“What's going through your head?” I retort, already bored of thinking about my worries. The thought of voicing them again makes me want to barf.
His eyes crinkle at the corners and he shakes his head. “So many things,” he murmurs, taking the bait and switch, so I try to reel him closer.
“Tell me,” I push, and he huffs.
“Thorne said he already unloaded his prophecy on you. You don't need my shit as well.” His response is a poor attempt at dodging the question, so I insist.
“Amuse me.”
The small smile that sits at the corner of his mouth shrinks as his eyes darken. “It's not all that funny,” he admits, making my heart skip.
“Then distract me with it?” I ask, desperation clawing at me, and he gives me a pointed look.
“You can't keep doing that,” he states, and my eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Doing what?” I push back, and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he tilts his head.
“Distracting yourself with the problems of others so you don't have to face your own.”
I pout, slightly irritated by his observation. “Call me out on it tomorrow. For now, tell me your thoughts,” I insist, and he scoffs.
“You're a handful.”
I can sense him mentally taking a step back, and I can’t stand it.
“Join me,” I blurt, and he shakes his head.
“Please?” I beg, against my better judgment.
“Our little bath together was interrupted when Ocean had a solution to help Kael. Let me cash in on that raincheck. I want that feeling again,” I plead, recalling his warm embrace engulfing me as we sat with my back to his chest in the heated water.
“What feeling?” he pushes, and I gulp, almost embarrassed to say it.
“Safety,” I admit, and his jaw falls while the darkness in his eyes takes a twist. But to my surprise, he pushes off the vanity and silently strips.
His t-shirt goes first, followed quickly by his shorts, and I fight back the groan when I realize he wasn't wearing anything underneath them.
To my relief, he doesn't waste any further time approaching me in the shower, stepping under the spray without hesitation as he cups my cheek, tilting my head back, and leaning his forehead against mine.
I sway in his embrace, and the feeling that I was chasing instantly wraps around us.
“I love you, Elodie,” he murmurs, forcing my eyes wide as I gape at him. “Truly, I never thought I would have the chance to experience it.” His words lodge my next breath in my throat. “But even more desirable than that, I love that I can give you the strength to feel safe.”
My hands lift to his chest, but I curl my fingers so my palms aren’t flat against the muscle there.
My emotions are too scattered right now for me to be confident in my control, especially as confusion takes root inside of me.
But he’s having none of it, plastering my palms against his chest without care.
“Rion,” I murmur, and he offers me one of those sweet half smiles as he brushes his thumb across my cheek.
His mouth is a wisp away from mine as he speaks. “My childhood was fucked up. I think that's why I reacted so manically to your scars,” he explains, using his free hand to ghost his fingertips over my back, and for the first time, the touch doesn't come with the memories of pain, only comfort.
“You only think?” I muse, referring to his reaction to my scars, and he huffs.
“I know,” he corrects. “Because of you, I know many things. I'll share them with you soon, but I can’t right now. It will only encourage you to hide away from the world, from yourself, and that's not going to be good for anyone,” he states, his breath whispering over my lips.
“Rion, I—” I interject, but he pushes the tip of his thumb against my lip, stopping the rest of my sentence.
“I know you need the distraction, something to numb the pain,” he states, making me pause as he reads my body without needing words.
“But I can’t help you retreat like that.
I won’t. Instead, I’ll offer you a distraction that will make you feel,” he breathes, bringing his hand from my back to my front as he ghosts his thumb over my taut nipple, and I whimper.
His lips brush against mine, but not in a kiss, not like I so desperately need. Instead, he leans back, reaching for the body wash as I stand helplessly, watching his every move.
Without a word, he lathers up the product in his hand and gives me his full attention.
Starting at my feet and making his way up my legs, one by one, he washes me.
His touch on my thighs is enough to steal my breath, and I whimper when he bypasses my core, moving straight to my stomach.
Composed, he winds his hands over my arms, across my collarbone, and down my back.
Every nerve ending is alive, desperate for his attention in the exact spots he refuses to give it.
“Rion,” I croak, bringing his eyes to mine, but he doesn't speak as he nudges me back under the spray, letting the suds wash away.
All too quickly, he shuts off the water and lifts me off my feet, pinning me to his chest as he steps out of the shower.
Effortlessly, he reaches for a towel as he marches from the room.
I'm so enthralled by him, I go willingly, without question, and only startle when he stops at the foot of the bed.
“This isn't your room,” I murmur, and he grins.
“It's not yours either,” he says with a smirk.
“It's Kael’s,” I clarify, and his smirk grows wider.
“He won't mind.”
I gape at him as he lowers me to my feet, quickly laying the towel down on the sheets before placing me exactly where he wants me.
Splayed on the bed, thighs wide, he wastes no time settling between them, bringing his mouth to my center so he can whisper against my core.
Only when my eyes are on his does he move.