The Afterglow
Dusky sunlight fills the room when I blink my eyes open. It’s sunset, and night will be upon us in mere minutes. The urgency to prepare for travel evades me. My entire body feels heavy and leaden against the mattress—pleasantly so. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept so heavily.
My thoughts sharpen as images of last night drift into focus like soft bolts of lightning cutting across the haze. I draw in a sharper breath.
Last night. I’m certain it’s a wet dream I fantasized until I register the soft, perfectly warm body entwined against my side.
Slowly—ever so slowly—I shift my head to the right to see her.
Ariya. She’s still here.
Even with her assurances that she had wanted this, wanted me, I’d expected her to sleep restlessly at best—and at worst, for her to brutally regret relinquishing her virginity to a monster.
Now that she’s tasted the forbidden fruit and claimed me after suffering years of abstinence, the anticipation is shattered for her.
As I’d drifted off clutching her in my arms, I’d braced myself to awaken to her storming off in utter horror and shame with tears in her pretty doe-brown eyes, our deal be damned.
But nothing could be further from the truth. I’m wholly unprepared for the way I drink her in with—heaven help me—affection.
Ariya’s cheek is nestled against my chest, one leg slung over mine and her arm draped loosely over my stomach.
Her long raven hair fans out behind her, a few locks falling over her face.
Though that perfect neck of hers is hidden, the sweet perfume of her blood dances in the air.
The elegant curve of Ariya’s bare shoulders protruding from the quilt alone sends a little jolt straight to my cock.
I spot the pink marks I’d left on the tapered curve of her waist—the ones she’d begged me for.
She’s the vision of a sleeping angel—soft and cruel and divine, like she’s been designed to unravel me and make it impossible for me to think straight.
When I focus, the drum of her heartbeat fills my ears. A slow, steady rhythm. There’s no denying she is utterly lost to the world.
Maybe I’ve really fucked her senseless, I think, smirking as pride courses through me.
I’m afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe too heavily, lest I disturb her. When she wakes, it will wreck this beautiful illusion that she really might want me.
But oh my God, I have to touch her.
Mouth dry, I reach my left hand to brush the hair out of her face, raking my fingers gently through her scalp.
Ariya gives a breathy, girlish moan, nuzzling deeper against me.
Her leg hitches a little higher, as though unconsciously forbidding either of us from escaping this bed anytime soon—an order I am more than happy to comply with.
I’ve never seen her look so at peace.
My heart squeezes. I can feel it keenly, and I know that I am so very, utterly fucked.
Growing feelings for the slayer girl you can never have? Nice going, idiot.
A wiser man would stop and untangle himself from her.
I instead comb a hand through her hair a second time, feather-light.
Has anyone ever touched her so gently like this, the way she deserved?
Could she ever come to see that she and I are cut from the same cloth? Twin flames, destined to cross paths.
Doubtful. It would be asking too much of her, and I don’t belong to her world any longer. I haven’t for a very long time.
But if Callistia can reverse the dark gift…
And she will, she must, I can feel it in my bones.
My stroking pauses at the thought of it. Human. Free. And—
My eyes cut down to Ariya’s face again.
Her.
Ariya stirs more deeply, making a groggy noise as she moves. On instinct, I pull my hand away and snap my eyes shut, hoping to buy just a few more minutes like this.
I hold my breath as I feel her wake and gingerly pry herself off me. The sheets rustle as she sits up halfway and gets her bearings. The weight of her gaze then falls on me.
Here it comes. A gasp of revulsion or fervent prayers for forgiveness.
A gentle touch caresses my cheek instead, stroking upward through my hair.
I drop my ruse involuntarily from the sheer shock of the tenderness and let my eyes flutter open. Ariya observes me with an endearment that strikes me speechless.
“You’re cute when you’re sleeping,” she murmurs, almost shyly, like unguarded affection is more terrifying than being banged into oblivion.
To be fair, I rather agree. She tilts her head, tucking some of the gold strands behind my ear.
I want to tell her to keep going, to never stop touching me. “I never see you look so… peaceful.”
“Shall I hold still so you can commit it to memory?” I ask.
Ariya flashes a grin as she chuckles—wide and untethered, and I think it’s as close to sunlight as I’ve come in over a century. My heart aches again, and I desperately try not to let it show on my face.
“I’ll leave that to your many adoring artist friends,” she replies.
But she does study me with a quiet intensity, tracing my body with her eyes, noting every place we’re still touching beneath the quilt.
Eventually, she moves her attention to the window, where the rich hues of sunset have withered into night.
“We should go,” she whispers.
I nod, even though something cold and horrible snakes through me.
Ariya pulls down the quilt and moves to climb out.
I shift my arm, splaying a hand over her hip, unyielding.
Her movements halt sharply like she’s hit a stone barrier, but she’s not angry when she glances back at me in surprise.
Surprised, like she’s still trying to get a read on me, like she can’t believe that I would do terrible things just to have her for a minute more.
The moment we leave this bed, I feel like I’m releasing her forever.
Ariya gingerly, finger by finger, pulls my hand off her. She guides it to her lips, brushing a kiss over my knuckles before folding my arm back to my chest.
Not goodbye, her kiss promises. Not yet.
She steps out of bed, and I roll over to watch her tread towards her things.
The tattered remains of her dress are still puddled on the floor under the curtained window.
The sight makes me want to shut my eyes and relive every last moment while it’s still fresh in my mind.
But no. The sooner I let it fade, the better.
I don’t love her. I can’t love her.