Chapter 30
CHANTEL
At the thirty-sixth hour, I fall into a restless sleep, dreaming about ravens and a man with eyes as deep as the darkest ocean.
I move from one side of the bed to the other, never quite feeling settled. Time moves slowly when you’re waiting for a miracle.
At one point, I’m certain it must be morning, but when I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside.
Eventually, I slip into another dream, and this time, it’s so tangible, I can feel his fingers on my face as he brushes my hair aside.
Tears track down my cheeks, and I let out a broken sound as I call out his name.
“I’m right here, gattina.”
My breath stalls, and my heart pounds as confusion and hope war inside me. It feels so real, I want to believe it, but I’m scared to look. I’m afraid when I do, I’ll lose him in the dream and wake up to my empty reality.
But as I linger between both worlds, I absorb too many sensory details. The warmth on my face. The solid weight dipping the mattress beside me. The inexplicable feeling of his presence.
I can’t ignore them, and when I finally open my eyes, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed.
I blink, wondering if he’ll disappear, but he doesn’t, and as my brain registers this is actually real, a sob wrenches from my chest.
“Gattina—”
Before he can finish, I scramble up and launch myself at him.
He catches me with a grunt, and I settle onto his lap and press my hands to his face.
“Cristian—” My voice shatters.
“I know, baby,” he says roughly, wrapping me in his arms and cradling my head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I choke on my tears. “It was all my fault. You were right there, and I didn’t touch you, and I thought…I thought it was going to be the last time.”
I’m not sure what I’m saying even makes sense to him, but I don’t think it matters.
He holds me, offering his special brand of comfort while I cry it out.
I don’t know how he always finds a way to make everything okay, but he does.
His murmured assurances and the steady beat of his heart soothe some of the agony of the last two days.
Once I’ve finally gathered myself, I pull back to meet his gaze and verbalize the most pressing question.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m better now that I’m here.” His warm fingers trace the curve of my face.
“What happened out there?” I rasp.
He hesitates for a moment, letting out a harsh breath as he shakes his head. “Ares called me when we were out on the water. I almost didn’t answer it.”
A knot settles in my stomach as I consider how Ares might be connected to this.
“What did he say?”
“He told me someone had planted a bomb on our boat. I thought he was just fucking with us, but we stopped to check. One of the crew found a maintenance panel had been sealed shut. We couldn’t access it, and all of our emergency gear had been removed.
We had no choice but to jump overboard, and we were swimming away when it exploded. ”
“Oh my god.”
The full weight of it crashes over me as I realize how close he came to not making it.
Now that my eyes have adjusted, I can see that he has cuts and bruises all over him, and what appears to be stitches in his forearm.
“What happened after that?” I swallow. “Did someone pick you up?”
“The blast dragged us under, and I lost my phone. We used pieces of the debris to float and drifted with the current until we found a small island. It was uninhabited and mostly woodland, but we stayed there until someone found us.”
“Did you go to the hospital?” I ask, worrying he might have more injuries he doesn’t know about.
“Yes,” he answers reluctantly. “They didn’t give me a choice.”
“Who?”
“Ares’s men.” He sighs. “They spotted our fire from their boat.”
I try to imagine how that scenario played out, but I can’t.
“How did Ares know to warn you?”
“I don’t know yet.” His jaw tightens. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
“When did they find you?”
“A few hours ago. Angelo picked me up from the hospital, and we stopped by the penthouse so I could shower and change. I had Mariella check on you when I talked to her on the phone, and you were asleep. I told her not to wake you.”
It takes a minute to process everything before it hits me all over again.
“I can’t believe you’re really here.” I blink back a fresh wave of tears.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he says softly, his gaze drifting down my body and lingering on my abdomen.
It isn’t something we’ve talked about, but we both know it’s a possibility. I can only assume that while he was out there, he must have been thinking about it—and wondering if he was going to leave me here alone.
That thought twists me up inside.
I drag my fingers through his hair, palming the back of his head as my gaze drops to his mouth.
“Cristian—”
I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say. So I close the distance between us and brush my lips against his.
A ragged breath spills out of him as his hands settle on my hips, gripping me tight. He lets me take the lead, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss. The first taste of him soaks into my veins, feeding an addiction I can no longer deny.
A desperate, frantic hunger sparks between us as his hands start to roam, and I deepen the kiss. Instinct has me grinding down against his erection as he palms the curves of my ass.
A deep, masculine sound crawls up his throat, and it heats my blood.
I can’t stop kissing him, and I’m worried he might be in too much pain, but I also can’t form a rational thought. I just know that I need him.
“Can you?” I ask breathlessly.
“I could be bleeding out, and I still wouldn’t say no,” he rumbles.
I smile against him as I slip my hand beneath his waistband, stroking the heavy length of his cock.
A second later, he has me on my back, staring up at him while he strips off his shirt and pants. But when he glances down at me, he pauses.
“Are you wearing my T-shirt?”
I bite my lip and nod.
A quiet acknowledgment passes between us as his eyes search mine.
In his absence, the walls around my heart have shattered, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to rebuild them.
That moment suspends itself as a charge hums through the air, tethering us together like an invisible thread.
His palms skate up my thighs, dipping beneath the hem of the shirt and pushing the fabric up to my navel. He seems to like the sight of me in his shirt too much to remove it, so he doesn’t.
He takes his time peeling off my panties, fingers scraping over my sensitive skin. By the time he spreads me apart and eases himself between my legs, every nerve in my body is on fire.
Bracing himself on his forearms, he presses against me, a low rasp of approval stirring in his throat.
“Fuck you’re wet for me, baby.”
“I need to feel you,” I whisper.
“I know.” His fingers sweep over my throat, angling my head back until I feel the full weight of his heavy gaze.
He sinks inside me slowly, burying himself deep as we stare into each other’s eyes. It’s intimate and intense, but I don’t want to look away for a second.
“Did you miss this?” he murmurs.
“So much.” Emotion chokes my voice.
“Good.” He rocks into me, lips ghosting over mine as we come together in an intoxicating rush.
Everything else drifts away as the world blurs at the edges and all that exists is this moment.
In a haze of ragged breaths, heated hands, and the rapid beating of our hearts, we find our way back to each other.
I find my way back to the place I think I’ve always belonged.
Because he left the door open for me.
The gravity of that engulfs me and burns me to ash.
He fucks me like it’s the only thing that matters, and somewhere between darkness and daylight, pleasure consumes us both.
As we lie together in the afterglow, exhaustion nearly pulling me under, I feel him tracing a familiar pattern over the T-shirt.
It’s hard to verbalize anything right now, but my curiosity won’t be sated until I do. He’s done that before when my skin was bare, and I never knew why.
“I’ve been meaning to ask what you see there.”
“Corvus.” He hums.
“What?”
“You have a pattern of freckles on the back of your shoulder. It looks like a constellation.”
“Corvus?” I echo, the word too familiar to be a coincidence.
“The raven.” An undercurrent of possession warms his voice.
The significance of that statement sends a shiver down my spine. It feels like fate had intertwined us long before we ever knew it, and in the next breath, Cristian seems to confirm it.
“You were made for me, dea.”
Something stirs me from my sleep, and it takes my foggy brain a minute to register the sound of whispering. I’m not sure who it could be, since I’m still sprawled across Cristian’s chest with our limbs tangled together.
As I slowly force my eyes open, I find him doing the same. Then his gaze drifts to the end of the bed, and he lets out a groan.
The entire family is standing there like a scene straight out of While You Were Sleeping.
I blink at them, trying to process what’s happening.
“What time is it?” Cristian asks.
“Time to eat,” Nonna answers cheerfully. “I made all your favorites, Tesoro mio. You need to restore your strength.”
“We made her wait as long as we could,” Angelo supplies.
Cristian nods but doesn’t look at all interested in moving.
“So should we all just come eat here, or—” Mariella smirks.
“We’ll come to you,” he rumbles. “After a shower.”
“Che bello.” Nonna claps her hands together.
It seems like it should be settled, but nobody leaves, and I realize it’s because half of them are still trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Can we finally talk about this?” Abella gestures between us.
It’s clear this question has been on her mind since she broke the news about Cristian, and now she’s dying to hear all the details.
“I’m so confused,” Valentina says. “When did this happen?”
“How did it happen?” Rafe waggles his brows.
Michele shoots his brother a look. “Did you miss the whole talk about the birds and the bees, or does someone need to explain it to you again?”
“Hilarious.” Rafe slugs him in the arm, and Angelo sighs.
“Everyone out,” Cristian grumbles.