Chapter 6
Watching her go, again, had been the third hardest thing Ambrose Draven ever had to do. The first was letting her go three months ago, just after biting her neck open. The second had been when they first met, after their bargain was made, and he let the devils steal her away again. And while it had caused an ache inside of him he couldn’t quite place then, he knew exactly what it was now, all too well. Just like then, he didn’t want to let her go, but he had to. He wanted her to know the depths of her power too.
And, for the record, the fourth had been rejecting her advances just an hour ago. Lords, how he wished he would’ve ripped that crimson gown from her body and plummeted into her. Her voice would sound fucking amazing as it echoed through the snowy trees. He wished he could’ve used the snow to peak her nipples even more just before licking it off of them.
Fuck. Her nipples. He was so damned desperate to see his favorite shade of pink again.
But Ambrose Draven was a gentleman.
Well, for Lila Bran he’d be a gentleman. He’d properly wait to have her, and once they did, he’d take her everywhere.
The garden, the office, his room, her room, the dining room, the foyer, the fucking sky if it were up to him.
So no, Ambrose Draven did not want to take her for the first time outside of the fucking Morada. He wanted to keep every scream and moan and yelp and whimper that came from her sweet mouth all to himself. He wanted to have hours upon hours—days—for themselves. To worship her. To blow her mind.
If it were up to him, by the time they were done, neither of them would be able to speak because their voices would be too hoarse, nor move because their limbs would be too weak. And, then, he would carry her to his bathing room and wash every centimeter of her body before he did it all over again.
But, now, watching Lila disappear through that godforsaken doorway, had him second guessing every decision he’d ever made.
And an unwelcome morbid thought crossed his mind.
What if that was the last time I see her?
Ambrose clenched his fists again, resisting every urge to not break down the door—the whole manor if need be—and take her back.
Another part of him regretted not giving her what she wanted. Next time, he decided. Next time I see her, if she wants me, I will have her. I will show her how much I love her.
With that promise, Ambrose took a step back from the Morada. He shifted into his true form, flared his wings out, and with a powerful flap, he burst into the night sky.
The Crow Court was silent by the time Ambrose arrived home. The sun was just about ready to peek its way into the world, but the night was still a cobalt blue that made the stars shine even brighter.
He didn’t fly to the front entrance, nor did he fly directly into his room. Ambrose hovered, for just a moment, above the balcony outside Lila’s bedroom. And before he could think any better of it, he landed on the cold stone underfoot. He wasn’t sure why his absent mind chose her room over his, but now that he was here, it was as though an invisible string was tugging him forward, tugging him inside.
Ambrose followed the pull.
As he swung the door open, he saw how dim everything looked inside. He had stood in this room countless times before and every time she was within, it would radiate. Without her, it was just another guest room.
But Lila had made this room her own and he could still feel the ghost of her energy in the walls, the pillows, the sheets.
He walked inside, shutting the door behind him and closing the blackout curtains in preparation for sunrise. It even smelled like her still, and he took a deep inhale—an inhale he didn’t want to release. As he walked toward the center of the room, her bed, he saw himself in the mirror. Or rather, the lack of him. It was as though he weren’t actually there, in her space, just as she wasn’t there either. He could fantasize they were away together, maybe somewhere by the ocean. He’d love to see her stand by the waves, watching her as she listened to the sounds and rumbles of the water smashing into the shore. He knew she would love it.
Ambrose tentatively sat at the edge of her bed, running his hand along the comforter. He still remembered her first day in the Crow Court, when he removed the venom from her body. She had been so strong, enduring the pain of the removal and the emotional turmoil of the fact they’d been with her always. When she fainted from pain, it was the first time he’d seen peace on her face. Her features softened, the furrow between her brows disappeared, and she looked . . .
Beautiful.
Ethereal.
Like the stars cannot compete.
Ambrose smiled at his past words. What an understatement that had been, but there were no words that would captivate her beauty, just as there were no words to captivate his love for her. He could write songs and poems until she tires of hearing them, and still it would not be enough.
She was . . . everything.
Dropping his head, Ambrose rolled under the covers of her bed. It was smaller than his, and in his natural form, it barely fit his wings and his feet were hanging off the edge a bit, but it smelled like her. It felt like her.
As he settled in, a bundle of feathers squished against him under his arm and a loud caw broke the silence.
“Shit,” Ambrose groaned, sitting up.
Under him, Pollock sat nestled, peering up at him, sadly cooing.
Please don’t make me leave.
Ambrose smirked at the bird and lifted him carefully into his palms. He placed Pollock on the pillow next to him, and settled back in.
“You can stay. It’s her room after all, and she’d want you here.”
The crow stood abruptly, hopping over to Ambrose and cuddling into his neck before nesting against him.
Ambrose heaved a heavy sigh, and as he scratched Pollock’s head, he said, “I miss her too, Pol. We’ll have her back soon.”
And right then, Ambrose wanted to believe that. As he drifted to sleep, his mind dreamed of him and Lila on a beach as she danced in the waves and dragged him in with her. The water would be cold, but they’d keep each other warm. Their bodies would be covered in sand but that wouldn’t stop them from making love and having the night of their lives.