Chapter 4 #4
After each and every mission, he left me gifts outside of my bedroom door.
No, that wasn’t a joke. Only two weeks ago I had found a severed head outside of my bedroom in a large box wrapped with a black silk bow.
I mean… who does that? It was very sweet!
The man wasn’t winning any awards for ‘traditional romantic,’ but I couldn’t help but love the gesture.
That wasn’t even counting what he did last Valentine’s day!
“I have no idea what he’s up to,” I noted to Zain, shaking my head as we walked towards my bedroom.
It was mid-day, and we were attempting to find Saint so that we could finish our work and be done for the weekend.
The others were training a Class B team that was just put together, so it was just the three of us today, and predictably… Saint was being difficult.
Zain chuckled. “I would try to guess, but it’s Saint.”
“Accurate,” I mumbled. We reached my bedroom and I pressed on the door, the handprint scanner opening it for me easily.
Despite never really using it, I had given my entire team access.
I never knew if they were going to need to wake me up for some reason, and frankly…
well, I wouldn’t be opposed to them showing up in my room.
Except as I entered the room, I came to a quick stop, my brows shooting up as Zain let out a chuckle.
Wow. Just an absolutely ‘wow’ moment. I stepped further into the room, taking in the white roses filling my room.
Hundreds of them. Some were in vases, others not.
But they were everywhere and shifting slightly in the breeze of the open window, no Saint in sight despite knowing he was the one who had put them here.
How did I know that?
All the petals were stained in blood. Just a light sprinkling, like a signature.
“Why?” I asked authentically.
Zain wrapped an arm around me and kissed my temple. “Pretty sure this is because of that human holiday that was on our calendar.”
Human holiday… Valentine’s day? I looked up at him and offered arched brows. “He got me a Valentine’s day gift?”
“Yep.” Zain flashed a smile and then tilted his head. “Sort of wish I had thought of that.”
A giggle slipped from my lips as I shook my head. I couldn’t help but find the entire action… romantic. Despite—or maybe because of—the blood.
We had found him back down in the office with a proud smile on his face.
When I had thanked him, he just shrugged as if it was no big deal.
I didn’t ask whose blood had been on the roses, but I figured it wasn’t necessary because they were so very clearly dead.
I think that had been all the permission he had needed, though, to continue to give me gifts.
I couldn’t lie—I loved it.
So why I couldn’t get the nightmare to kiss me was once again beyond me.
Saint was even more outright about his attraction to me than Blackwell!
I mean, it wasn’t from a lack of trying on my end, either.
I flirted with him, often, yet every single time he stopped me and threatened to ‘turn my ass pink’ if I kept teasing him.
Something that very much just wanted to make me kiss him more, for the record.
I did wonder if maybe, just maybe, his rejection had to with him being a reaper.
God terrors were extremely powerful by nature, so he would have a right to be concerned since I was human and probably had a soul that his magic would want to take, something that didn’t scare me as much as it should.
If there was anyone that I knew would keep my soul safe, it was Saint.
Still, it felt more than that, and I couldn’t lie, it hurt my pride just a teeny tiny amount.
I really should be terrified of kissing a god terror.
I mean, there were several elements to them—not even including that he was a reaper—that were absolutely horrifying for humans.
First, they were immortal. As in never died and truly were never born.
I had no confirmation on this, but that was the rumor.
Additionally, unlike legend terrors, which were associated with different cultures, god terrors were more associated with different concepts that you saw throughout the world no matter what.
Reapers obviously worked with death, but you had god terrors that worked with life, love, war, and a myriad of other different topics.
I personally hadn’t met any besides Saint, but that was the notion behind them.
So yeah, I sort of got why he was hesitant to get involved with me, since he was immortal and I was going to probably unfortunately lead a very mortal life.
Something I didn’t like to think about, because my own mortality was in such stark contrast to the nearly or completely immortal nightmares around me.
Plus, he had been around for a very long time, presumably, so maybe he had sworn off romance long ago.
But then why the Valentine’s roses? It just didn’t make sense to me, and I had been too much of a wimp to outright ask because every time I hedged at the topic, he, and they as a group, skillfully avoided it. It was impressive. Annoying, but impressive.
Zain asked Saint something, but I was distracted enough that I didn’t hear it, instead looking over his black wavy hair that was streaked with silver throughout, the ends almost completely dipped.
The silver sparkled under the dim lighting like the almost embedded diamond glint his skin seemed to have in certain lighting.
The man was like a hard, cold diamond, always dressed in black and decorated in tattooed artwork that consisted of death-related images from skulls to more human religious-themed depictions, like crosses.
He looked as dangerous as he was, and as he tapped his fingers against the table, I noticed a dark shadow that seemed to grow under his hand.
Before I could stop myself, my hand snuck out, and I brushed the small wisp that curled out to meet me, causing Saint’s gaze to snap towards me, cutting off whatever he was saying.
I offered him a wide-eyed innocent expression, even as the black shadow circled up my finger, kissing my skin and making me smile.
He let out a low sound in his throat before scowling down at the shadow, as if it somehow had wronged him.
“Saint,” Razar offered in a dry tone.
“She did it, not me,” he pointed out as the shadow left my hand, making me frown.
I smiled as they went back to talking, and the mini-shadow, which took the form of a cute little humanoid, walked back out from under his hand and leaned against my coffee.
My lips pulled up into a smile as I watched him with delight.
What? Little creepy shadow thing was cute! Plus, I was pretty sure Saint knew I was enjoying it because he seemed to not be paying it any mind now, distracting Razar with something or the other as we waited for our last two teammates.
Honestly, Saint’s magic really impressed me.
I mean, he could kill in a bunch of different ways, and normally he avoided his nightmare form, which I found unusual, but I think he enjoyed ‘feeling’ the kill, as he referred to it once.
Maybe something about being a reaper stopped that?
Or, it was possible he liked the feeling of being covered in blood, because I had caught him a few times licking it off his fingers after killing someone here, so I couldn’t imagine what he did post-mission.
I wouldn’t admit to it openly, but I’d gotten more than turned on watching him do that.
I didn’t want to examine what that said about me…
well, I knew it said I was absolutely insane, but oh well.
At least I wasn’t alone!
Yet his magic wasn’t anything compared to the actual glory of seeing Saint in his reaper form—that was something entirely different.
You honestly think you know what a reaper looks like until you are really in the presence of one.
Then you experience firsthand what that type of death magic feels like…
tastes likes. Saint in that form was over nine feet tall, and his entire body was clothed completely in black, his robes almost having an ethereal edge to them, where you didn’t know if they were solid or made of smoke.
His tattooed hands would turn skeletal, and his hidden face would turn into a legitimate skull, his coal eyes turning into burning silver gems. I found it absolutely intoxicating to see him looking like death itself.
I also had been shocked by how comfortable his robe had been against my cheek.
Yeah, you better believe I had still gone up to him and wrapped my arms around him when I saw him post-mission like that.
It helped that he had literally picked me up, and while the other men had been upset about his closeness in that form, I hadn’t been worried in the least. Saint wouldn’t hurt me.
No, he would kill anyone, even his own team, before hurting me.
Plus, it had been totally worth it, because that was literally the best hug to date.
Not that I would ever admit that to the others… that was the type of comment that started fights.
Saint’s hand slid onto my thigh, drawing my attention from the little shadow figure, before a noise had me snapping my head back over to the window wall next to us.
Amun sat down with my father, the first’s eyes moving over towards me as I offered him a small, hesitant smile.
Razar let out a dangerous sound, looking towards the nightmare as Amun met his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I shook my head, running a hand over my face before taking another sip of my coffee, sad to see my shadow friend gone.
I couldn’t even be upset with my team, either, because I knew they were territorial.
It was just who they were. Hell, it was how I was…
but shit, sometimes it made stuff difficult.