Chapter 7 #2
That’s what I’d always assumed too, but when I thought about it, I’d felt strongly called to move to Milton, even though I knew no agathos lived here.
At the time I’d attributed it to searching for a sense of purpose, since it seemed like I wouldn’t be meeting my bonded any time soon.
An adventure that was acceptable within the confines of what I was and what my community expected of me.
But now that I’d met Riot, I was questioning everything.
Maybe what I’d felt was the call . That was a preferable explanation to this being a result of reaching out to the Goddess of Night.
And it would mean Riot really was my soul bond, and I wouldn’t have to fight all the feelings that arose when I was around him.
“Are you listening?” Mercy asked exasperatedly, and I gave her a tight smile, shaking my head.
“Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night. Something about the community center?”
“Just a regeneration project I’m taking part in over the weekend. You do look beat though,” Mercy agreed. “Go sleep, I’ll message you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too, M,” I replied softly, hanging up and putting the phone and earbuds on the nightstand.
As much as I wanted to just collapse, I’d never be able to fall asleep with makeup on.
I changed into a long-sleeve pajama top and shorts before quietly sneaking through the living room to the bathroom.
Riot was lying on the couch with his arm thrown across his eyes in a restless sleep.
He was fidgeting constantly, and I quickly let myself into the bathroom and took care of my business, hoping it wasn’t because the couch was uncomfortable.
I was a terrible hostess.
I turned off the flickering television on my way back to my room and dug out another throw blanket to lay over top of him.
It was a physical effort not to pull his arm away from his eyes so I could see his whole face.
Riot’s lips were parted slightly, his jaw lacking the tension it always had when he was awake.
My fingers itched with the urge to touch him, and I forced myself to retreat to the safety of my own bed before I embarrassed myself.
I really wished there was some kind of guidebook for whatever this was, because I didn’t feel like I was doing a good job navigating it on my own.
Usually sleep came easily to me once I was burrowed in my linen bedding, comforted by the faint smell of the lavender white tea wax melts I used in here, but not tonight.
Exhaustion was weighing heavily on me in a way I’d never experienced before. My limbs grew heavier and heavier, like I was under water and fighting to get back to the surface. It took an almost frightening level of effort just to roll to my side, silently begging for sleep to take me.
It never did.
The sharp ache began in my chest, but as the hours went by, it spread through every inch of my body. It wasn’t so much a crippling pain as pangs of hollowness.
I felt like an empty husk, yet unbearably weighed down all at once. Trying to sleep through it was pointless, and my brain wouldn’t let me forget about Riot sleeping fitfully on the couch.
Maybe he was uncomfortable too? Maybe he needed me? If I could just get to him, I felt like I could make it better...
If I was keeping a tally—which I didn’t want to admit—this definitely seemed like a point in favor of soul bonds, because what was this feeling if not overwhelming need ?
It wasn’t whatever I had imagined the feeling would be—rampant, unquenchable desire perhaps?—it was worse. Cruel, even. Like Anesidora had concocted an increasingly painful slew of sensations for us to experience until we bent to her indomitable will.
Be sweet.
I didn’t want to be sweet though. I wanted to scream. Because if that’s what this was, I wanted to demand more time rather than be pushed towards a level of intimacy I had no experience with, with a man I’d never expected to be intimate with.
Was a few days of self-reflection really too much to ask for?
Eventually, I gave up on sleep, dragging my aching limbs out of bed.
Riot was now lying awake on the couch, face pinched in misery. He glanced over at me as I flicked on the lamplight, clearly too exhausted to be startled by my presence.
“Ignore me,” he rasped. “I guess I’m having withdrawals. Maybe I’m more human than I thought,” he added, sounding mildly amused by the idea.
“I don’t think it’s the kind of withdrawal you’re thinking of,” I murmured. “Come with me?”
Riot’s eyebrows disappeared under his messy dark hair, and I felt my face heat.
“The pain,” I explained hastily. “The achiness. I feel it too. It might be that overwhelming feeling people talk about.”
Riot blinked slowly. “We’re not having sex just to make the pain stop.”
“No, definitely not,” I agreed quickly, staring at the floorboards like I’d never seen anything so interesting, even as my inner monster preened at his suggestion. “When I came back from work, it felt like a huge weight off my shoulders to be near you again. Maybe we just need to be...closer.”
In the course of my rambling, I hadn’t noticed Riot get up and cross the short distance between us until his feet appeared right in front of mine.
His large hands cupped either side of my jaw, lifting my head until I couldn’t avoid eye contact any longer.
Riot’s usually impassive features were marred with a deep frown, and if my limbs had been obeying me, I might have reached up to smooth his furrowed brow without thinking about it.
“You think this pain is the overwhelming sensation your goddess pushes on your people to encourage them to consummate their bond?” he asked slowly, looking troubled.
“Yes?” I squeaked. Already the pain was easing just having his hands on my skin, his hot breath fanning over my hair when he spoke.
Riot shook his head slightly in disbelief.
“Do you see how this isn’t a gift, Gracie?
A gift is meant to be free, to come without expectations.
I don’t regret whatever this is,” he clarified as my heart twisted in on itself.
“I don’t understand it, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.
At the same time...it might be better described as a curse. ”
I scanned his face, looking for some sign of dishonesty or scorn, but found only genuine concern.
The outrage I’d expected to feel at the insinuation that a soul bond was anything less than sacred never came.
A loud voice in the back of my mind, the one I usually commanded to be sweet, agreed with Riot.
“Can we lie down?” I asked quietly, overwhelmed and exhausted.
He nodded, a slight smile playing around his mouth.
Riot’s hands slid down from my jaw over my neck and along my shoulders, the contact sending a jolt of awareness through me.
He didn’t linger though, turning me gently by my shoulders and encouraging me back into my bedroom.
Fudge, why had I worn sleep shorts tonight? I would never show this much leg during the day, and I was feeling very... exposed.
We climbed on either side of the bed facing each other, and with some of the physical strain eased, my brain started going wild instead.
Should I put some pillows between us? What if I snored?
Or drooled? I’d know if I drooled, right?
The last time I shared a room with anyone had been at the last sleepover I’d attended in high school.
“You’re a noisy thinker,” Riot mumbled, sounding vaguely amused by the idea.
Before I had a chance to apologize, he’d tugged me towards him, one heavy, tattooed arm draped over my waist, our legs brushing lightly under the blankets.
I sucked in a startled breath at the intimate position, mostly surprised at how much I liked it. At how right it felt.
I exhaled and forced my body to relax. The physical ache had gone, but that only highlighted the minute reactions happening in the rest of my body.
My heartbeat had picked up, my mouth was uncomfortably dry, and there was a fluttering, clenching sensation below my belly button that almost made me gasp. I almost rested my hands on my abdomen to see if I could feel the strange sensation under my palms, but I didn’t want Riot to see.
It probably wasn’t normal.
“Fuck,” Riot exhaled. The quiet sound was enough to make me jump in the silent room.
“Everything okay?” I asked lamely. Riot chuckled darkly at the redundant question. Everything was very much not okay. He was silent for a long moment before he answered, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for his reply.
“The Moros…when we encounter humans, we inherently know their downfall. We can sense weakness. That woman I dragged out of the club, the one who called you…”
“Rae?”
“Right. Hers is opioids. I’ve always hated that preternatural knowledge. It wasn’t something I could shake off. It urged me to act against my wishes.”
My heart sank with the realization of where he was going with this.
“Our connection makes you want to act against your wishes,” I surmised, hating how small my voice sounded.
As much as the realization—the rejection —gutted me, there was no anger. The darkness in me didn’t rise. I understood all too well what it was to resent a lack of choice.
“No,” Riot growled, the rough intensity of his voice taking me by surprise. “It makes me want to do things I’m very confident I’d want to do anyway. It makes it feel impossible not to do them.”
“But you won’t,” I whispered with absolute certainty.
“But I won’t,” he agreed. “Not until you’re ready.”
The band around my ring finger seemed to grow tighter, reminding me that I wasn’t supposed to do any of the things I was almost sure I wanted to do.
“I wish I knew what you were to me,” I murmured, tracking the sharp planes of Riot’s face, the olive skin—seemingly the only part of him I’d seen that wasn’t covered in colorful ink—his captivating amethyst and crimson eyes, the dark stubble on his jaw.
“Sometimes the right answer is the simplest one, Gracie,” Riot rasped, cataloguing my features as thoroughly as I was cataloguing his. “What would be the simplest answer?”
“That you are my soul bond,” I replied instantly. “Except there’s nothing simple about that.”
Riot tipped his chin slightly, conceding my point.
His desire brushed against my skin like gentle fingertips and I arched my back unconsciously.
“Gracie,” Riot rasped, his grip flexing where he held me. “You’re killing me.”
But how was I supposed to find out if he was my soul bond without experimenting a little? Just a bit.
I’d never kissed anyone before. I’d been saving it, as was customary, for my soul bond.
But even if that wasn’t Riot, I still wanted to share this with him.
I wanted more than almost anything to know what his lips felt like against mine, if kissing was really as magical as it seemed in the movies.
I wanted to memorize the feeling so I could replay it over and over in my head for the rest of my life.
Just one kiss. For science.
“Maybe we could…have a goodnight kiss?” I suggested hesitantly, even as a deep hunger rose in me while I said them.
Riot exhaled slowly like he was steadying himself, and I briefly panicked that he was going to say no and I’d die of shame on the spot.
But then he pulled his arm out from under his head and his fingers were gripping my chin, guiding me back as he moved forward, his breath fanning over my lips. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest, I was sure he could hear it.
“You ever kissed anyone before, Gracie girl?” Riot asked, his voice low and seductive.
“Will you think less of me if I say no?” I replied, suddenly acutely aware of how my inexperience might be a dealbreaker for him. There was nothing sexy about not knowing what I was doing, was there?
“Hell no.” His lips brushed lightly over mine, a teasing ghost of a kiss. “A caveman part of me I’m not entirely proud of might be pretty smug about it.”
I smiled against his mouth and felt his lips tilt up in response. I didn’t think many people got to see Riot’s soft side, and I was honored that I did.
Then his lips moulded to mine, moving against each other, our breaths mingling, and I was pretty sure I would never have a soul bond, because my soul had left my body.
This was kissing? It was far more magical than it looked in movies. Messier, more energetic, less perfect but vastly more perfect at the same time.
Riot’s tongue swept my lower lip, and I gasped in surprise as he pushed forward, boldly exploring my mouth, his grip on my chin tightening.
His domineering hold was nothing like the sweet kisses in the movies I watched, but I liked it.
I liked how safe I felt in Riot’s confident care—like he would never steer me wrong.
I didn’t try to suppress the darkness this time. It washed through me like a comforting friend and an invigorating rush all at once, electrifying my nerve endings.
Making me brave.
My tongue slid against his, my teeth scraped his lower lip, my leg crept over his thighs of its own volition, hips moving to a silent beat.
I felt sexy . Riot groaned into my mouth, one hand gripping my hip almost painfully, like he was forcing himself not to move higher or lower.
“You’re playing with fire, Gracie girl,” he rumbled before delivering a stinging nip to my lower lip that zinged through my entire body. “This is a lot less innocent than a simple goodnight kiss.”
Reluctantly, I pulled myself back, struggling to catch my breath. My inner repressed seductress was fine with taking things further, but his words had reminded the logical part of my brain that I wasn’t actually ready to rip my clothes off and find out what other stuff felt like yet.
Well, I sort of was, but the guilt I’d managed to suppress during the act was rising up with a vengeance.
What if Riot wasn’t my soul bond? Had I given away something I was meant to be saving? Was I less pure now?
I rolled away from him, but Riot tucked me back against his body with one glorious bicep cradling my head.
The warmth of his hard chest seeped into my skin through my thin pajama top, and I focused on how nice it felt to snuggle rather than how nice it would feel to do other things that I would probably regret.
Eventually it worked, my eyelids grew heavy and Riot’s breathing evened out behind me, his arm over my hip growing lax.
Maybe we were falling prey to one goddess or the other’s plans for us, or maybe I’d meddled in something bigger than myself with my reckless prayer, but at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to care about the machinations of the divine.
Just like I’d told him at dinner, we were just Riot and Grace.