Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ama
After getting lost and redirected roughly eight times in the labyrinth of a castle, we had finally found the dining hall for visitors.
They had a buffet set up, and I had stacked my plate full of pizza and chicken wings...
and had all but stolen the bottle of ranch dressing I found.
I didn't care what anyone said, ranch was good on literally everything.
Apparently, it was something the human realm came up with, and honestly, I needed to go up there and thank them one day. They were heroes in my eyes for this delicacy.
Drayven had eaten a variety of foods, from burgers, to steak, to a million side items. We had been in bliss the entire time, completely overindulging ourselves in silence, not uttering a word as we practically breathed in the food.
The chefs here were phenomenal. It probably didn’t help that we had been traveling all day and been relatively stressed about the Summit in general.
It was called comfort food for a reason.
Back in our room, we lounged on the couch and chair in the sitting area like lazy lards.
Snuggling further into the couch on my side, I let the haze of my full stomach and mental exhaustion lull me into a half-asleep state.
My mind drifted as if I was sleeping, but I was also very much aware of Drayven's snores from the chair near me.
We’d ended up on the furniture out here instead of the bed, likely because neither of us knew yet how to approach the topic of sleeping in the same bed. Granted, it was a king bed and we wouldn't be touching if we stuck to our sides, but the notion of sharing it was still such an intimate one.
We had a few hours yet until we needed to have that conversation, and I began to get frustrated at my body fighting sleep.
Despite my drowsiness, it felt as if my mind was running a million miles a minute, and I groaned quietly as I pushed myself to a sitting position and glanced over at Drayven's large frame awkwardly slumped in the sitting chair.
His head lolled onto his shoulder, his mouth hanging slightly open as he snored lightly.
He was even more handsome in his sleep, if that was possible.
The constant worry lines that creased his forehead and the spot between his brows were gone, his face smooth as he slept peacefully without a care in the world.
I found myself longing to see his face like this more often.
He carried such a heavy weight on his shoulders at all times, trying to be a “perfect Reaper” for the royals, and honestly, I thought it had molded him into someone he wasn't.
Yes, he was a loyal and talented Reaper who had collected more souls than anyone in his age group, but he also wasn't living life.
He didn't go out and have fun. Ever. And that was coming from me, the girl with almost no social life.
Still, he was all work and no play, and I found myself both hating that and worrying about him as I continued to look him over.
I'd have to work on changing that when we got home if he was serious about trying to smooth things out between us.
Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a small groan at how sore my body was from sitting in that damn carriage for hours.
I needed a massage or something. The large obsidian tub popped into my mind, and a smile took over my face at the thought of using it.
I pushed myself off the couch and strode towards the bedroom to grab a couple items. Ruffling through my luggage, I grabbed a black silk robe and a hair tie before quickly padding over to the bathroom.
Flicking the light on, I noted the floating shelves on the wall that held candles and a lighter.
Hanging my robe on the hook, I used my hair tie to roll my ponytail into a bun on top of my head, right behind my horns, securing it so it wouldn't get wet during my bath.
When you had this much hair, you washed it only when necessary because blow drying it was such a bitch.
Turning the hot water on, I grabbed a few of the mini bottles of bath products and scanned until I found a scented bubble bath.
Vanilla. It wasn't my usual choice of scent, but it would definitely still be delightful and relaxing.
After pouring in a generous amount—because who doesn't love a lot of bubbles—I set it back on the shelf.
I figured it would be at least five minutes until the bath was even close to full enough for me to submerge myself in it, so I quietly walked over to the bar back in our living space and poured myself a glass of the cabernet there.
Swirling it around in the glass, I breathed in the notes of the wine before taking a small sip.
It had a heavy, full-bodied aroma and tasted of dark chocolate with an underlying black cherry note.
This. I needed this. The bubble bath. The wine. The peaceful silence.
The memory of my father telling me the humans topside didn’t allow anyone under the age of twenty-one to drink alcohol popped into my head.
I was eighteen and thought it was an absurd rule.
If you made something illegal, it only made kids want to do it more.
We were, of course, taught to drink responsibly, but I firmly believed that not being off-limits made it less appealing to a lot of people.
Glancing at Drayven, I saw he was still passed out in the chair, so I returned to the bathroom, thrilled when I saw the tub was more than half full.
Closing the door with a soft click behind me, I set the wine on the small table by the tub and lit the candles in the room before I began to undress, neatly folding my clothes and setting them on the edge of the sink as I went.
Turning the lights off, I melted at how serene this bathroom was with just the candles illuminating it.
Grabbing my wine once more, I took a sip and climbed into the obsidian tub, hissing lightly at the first bite of heat on my skin.
While I loved the water to be scalding, it was still always a slight adjustment at first.
Reaching for the knob, I turned the water off and sank down fully into the tub, my body immediately relaxing as the heat worked its way into my muscles. Tilting my head back, I fit my neck into the rounded edge and rested my arm against the side, wine glass in hand.
Closing my eyes, I ran through all that Otto had told me about the houses in preparation for introductions tomorrow.
I wasn't sure what was expected of us outside of the formal introductions and then the meal together, but I definitely wanted to explore the capital a bit since it was my first time here.
I put my wine glass to my lips as I mulled everything over, then almost dropped the damn thing in the tub when all my candles blew out and I was left in the dark.
Fuck. My heart raced in my chest as I glanced around in the darkness, desperately trying to identify possible threats.
Sitting there naked in the tub, I felt vulnerable and exposed, and I mentally cursed myself for being lulled into a false sense of security and thinking I was safe just because I was in our house’s chambers.
Stupid Ama, never expecting the worst out of a situation. I was so out of my league here.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth. A muffled scream would have no doubt escaped my lips if it hadn’t been for the familiar scent that wrapped around me, instantly stopping the noise from working its way out.
A familiar voice whispered into my ear, “I needed to talk to you without Drayven around. I didn’t mean to scare you, but this couldn’t wait.”
Finias.
His voice was raspy as he continued, “I couldn't stop thinking about the way we parted earlier, and it's been eating at me, Ama. Did he convince you to stay away from me?"
My chest heaved as I sucked in air to calm my racing heart when his hand lifted from my mouth. "Fucking hell, Fin. You couldn't have just asked to meet with me in private like a sane person would have?" I asked, still partially in shock.
With the darkness blindfolding me, my other senses felt heightened. So, when I felt a deep laugh rumble through him and his breath tickled my throat as he said, "I never promised I was sane," a shiver raced through my body.
Oh man, it could not be healthy how attracted I was to the darkness in Fin.
Despite the precariousness of the situation, not even an ounce of me felt like I was in danger with him. Maybe that was stupid, but I couldn't deny that he had an easy way of making me feel safe and relaxed...and, dare I say it? Happy.
I fought the urge to fall back into the easy-going manner I had with him and quipped back, "What do you want, Finias?" Then I chugged a few mouthfuls of wine to stop myself from saying something cheesy.
His response had me nearly choking on said wine. “You.”
Coughing a bit to clear my throat, I wheezed out, "Come again?"
I jolted slightly as his fingers started to trace circles on my exposed neck, and he slyly retorted, "Can't make you come again if I didn't make you come to begin with, but I am eager to change that right now."
My body betrayed me, and I felt myself tilting my head back to give him further access.
His hand dipped lower, skimming the top of my breasts, and the whimper that came out of me was shocking.
I had never made that noise before. Holy hell.
My legs rubbed together as the desire built within me at just his light touches.
"Tell me you don't want my touch and I'll stop." He whispered the promise, but I felt the pain in his words, as if it would kill him if I told him to do so. I was nearly positive it would kill me as well.