CHAPTER 28
Aimee
The warm glow of a winter sun breaking through the cloudy canvas of the sky’s expanse wakes me up from my slumber.
Strong, protective arms band around me under the fluffed up covers, and my legs rest comfortably against Killian’s.
I hold my breath for a second, waiting for the telltale signs of a panic attack to appear, but nothing happens.
No prickles at the back of my skull.
No shortness of breath.
No unmistakable urge to flee.
On the contrary, I feel a featherlight blanket of calmness enveloping my senses, and I’m astonished to realize I’ve had a full night’s sleep with not one nightmare in sight.
When I crack my eyes open, the world seems brighter, sharper somehow.
I feel the sunrays on my skin like a lover’s caress.
I can hear each individual ember cracking in the fireplace.
The silk sheets below me are decadent whispers, and everywhere my skin touches Killian’s is a fucking torchlight of heavenly awareness.
It’s like a veil has been lifted from my brain, and I’m experiencing the world for the first time as I was intended to.
Is this how it feels to love and be loved in return? Gods, I’m struggling to remember why I fought so hard against this to begin with.
I shift in Killian’s arms, turning to face him, and he mumbles in his sleep, holding me tighter, as if I’d vanish otherwise.
He’s even more heartbreakingly stunning when he’s sleeping.
His tousled hair hangs on his forehead, wild and silky, and his long, dark eyelashes dust his cheeks like the kiss of shadows on delicate porcelain.
He almost doesn’t seem real, more like an artist’s dream brought to life through vivid brush strokes, than a being made of flesh and bones.
My fingers itch to brush the contour of his sensual mouth, to run my fingertips alongside his stubbled jawline. But I’m rooted in place, afraid to move and break this reverie. We’re suspended in this perfect split second.
However, the moment he wakes up, I have to face my fears and embrace honesty in all its ugly, broken facets.
There can’t be any attempt at redemption without suffering, can there?
I’ve hidden these parts of myself for so long, and from everybody around, that my brain can barely cope with this new reality.
I must tell him my true story, harrowing as it might be.
He deserves to know. He truly does! Then why does my heart shrink in pain at the mere thought of coming clean?
Guilt washes over me like dirty water, foul and never-ending. I’ve kept this ruse up for so long that it’s hard to untangle deception from facts. I look back on my duplicity since the first time we spoke, remembering every way I’ve distorted the narrative.
Will he forgive me for all my omissions, half-truths and white lies?
Understand my need to cover my past, to keep my wounds hidden from him, from the world?
Will he finally see me as the fraud that I am?
Will he still feel the same way about me once he realizes that the Aimee he fell in love with is erected on a wobbly house of cards, each lie stacked on top of another precariously?
There’s only one way to find out.
His confession from last night plays in my mind on repeat. He loves me.
He. Loves. Me.
Against all odds, against prophecies, and whatever the fates had bestowed upon us, he chose me. Against everything my twin sister has ever drilled into my head about my unworthiness, about how unlovable and undeserving of goodness I am, he fell for me.
And by all the mighty power of the Gods above and below, I love him back with the same fierce intensity.
I didn’t say it out loud last night, but I feel it deep in my bones.
I’ve tried so hard to avoid this exact situation, and yet here I am, drowning willingly in his captivating magnetism and the sweet capitulation of finally admitting my own feelings.
I remember what Blaise had said to me a while back:
“The longer you both play this cat and kitty game, the harder the fall when you both will surrender.”
His words come back to haunt me with a certain clarity.
He was so damn right, the scoundrel! Who knew that I should’ve taken advice on matters of the heart from none other than fucking Blaise, the insolent, flirtatious rake?
He seems like the least desirable person to listen to when it comes to romantic relationships, and yet he has the uncanny ability to see through all the bullshit, the games and the pretenses.
I can’t help but wonder if he practices what he preaches.
I chuckle in disbelief, and the sound rouses Killian from his slumber. He opens one eye, then the next, engulfing me in his adoring onyx gaze. His lazy smile is so blinding that I blink, committing it to memory, just in case.
Just in case the looming conversation that awaits us will forever alter his perception of me.
Would my deceit be enough to break our love?
Is it as fragile and fickle as any new love, or is it really as unmoving as the mountains, as undying as the stars, as unending as the vast expanse of the universe?
Will this love survive my betrayal? More so, will I survive if it doesn’t?
“Hey.”
The slow whisper caresses my skin just like his shadows rising from his skin in smoky ringlets that skim my naked shoulder smoothly.
“Hey to you too,” I purr back.
Since there’s no reason to hold back anymore, I drag my fingertips along his jaw, reveling in the rugged feel of his five o’clock shadow.
“Morning has officially become my favorite time of day,” he says, kissing my fingers one by one. “Waking up with you in my arms feels like homecoming. Like I’m finally where I’ve always been supposed to be.”
I blush, not yet used to his blatant show of affection. I can feel the pointed tips of my ears warming up, and I brush my hair slowly to cover them.
“Mmm, it’s actually long past noon, from what I gather.
” I peek behind him at the sun shining through the crack in the velvet curtains, and its position high in the sky confirms my theory.
“And who knew that the big, bad Vampire King is a closeted teddy bear? The vilest creature Imiryion has ever seen is just a misunderstood cinnamon roll!” I raise an eyebrow whimsically, leaning further into his embrace.
He growls playfully, biting my earlobe. “Only for you, little umbra. Make no mistake. I can still live up to my Akaoriforsaken reputation.”
I laugh wholeheartedly, kissing the tip of his nose. “Yeah, yeah, say what you want, cute Vampire King. You’ve shown your hand to me. You don’t scare me anymore!”
He flips us over, hovering above me, as he presses his very hard erection against my entrance.
“Good! I’d rather elicit from you other, stronger, contrasting emotions.
” He grinds against me in slow, circular movements, and I can already feel arousal pooling between my thighs.
Gods! Must he render me speechless so darn easily?
My thoughts jumble, as all my focus is going to the pleasure coursing through my body, and the promise of another round of realm-bending, soul-shattering, galaxies-colliding sex.
His lips are just inches from mine, and I indulge in his obscene scent of leather, blood and male pheromones.
It would be so easy to give in to this maddening chemistry we have, to steal just another moment of ecstasy before the inevitable occurs.
Somehow, I doubt that what I’m about to say will keep him in the same sinful mood.
But, wish as I might, I cannot dwell on this any longer. It’s time to face my demons.
I sigh, drawing back, and peering into his flaming gaze. “Killian, we need to talk. I need to tell you something.”
“Whatever it is, little umbra, I’m sure it can wait until I’ve thoroughly fucked my female in the light of day,” he says, smugness coating his words, before he claims me in a passionate kiss.
My protest dies in my throat as the doors burst open and Blaise barges in as if literal hellhounds are on his heels. He looks flabbergasted, if that is even possible for a centuries-old vampire. His cheeks are pink-tinged, his braids disheveled, and his breathing erratic.
“Killian, wake up, asshole, for the love of Akaori!” His words falter and he freezes on the spot for a second, looking dumbfounded at our intertwined form under the covers.
He dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, wailing.
“My eyes! Oh, Akaori, my eyes! They’re scorched!
I need all the ale in the kingdom to wipe that image away! ”
“Serves you right for not having the decency to knock first.” I snicker at the same time that a stone-faced Killian snarls, “This better be good, you cockblock!”
Blaise does a one eighty, facing the wall, before words rush out of his mouth. “Get dressed, both of you, right now! This is a life and death situation! Or, un-death, since we don’t really die that easily!”
Killian frowns, standing up from the bed, and pulling on a black shirt and his signature leather pants. I grab my robe from the floor and start getting dressed as well.
“Are we under attack? Have the onpyrs breached the castle’s perimeter?” Killian asks. “You can turn around. We are decent.”
Blaise swivels back into position, facing us, as an excited grin spreads on his face. “Nothing of the sort. Quite the opposite, actually. Akaori has finally smiled upon us, brother. Aurora is here!”
I feel all the blood drain from my body as I sway on the spot. My anxiety hits me at maximum speed, making my skin crawl and feel like it’s on fire at the same time.
“What?” I utter in disbelief, the word barely above a whisper.
Killian jumps into action, opening his dresser and throwing me a black dress that hits me in the face, as my limbs are frozen, unable to register what they are supposed to do.
I look frowning from the black garment at my feet to him.
Why does he have a dress in his closet? Scratch that; that’s not important. Why the hell is my twin here?
“She just arrived in a carriage a few moments ago. Our rumors about Aimee’s kidnapping have reached her ears.
Aurora came to broker her release. She’s alone and unarmed, and she says she wants to talk, to convince you to let her sister go.
She’s willing to fulfill the prophecy.” Blaise says, and ice runs through my veins.
No, no, no! This isn’t right. My sister would never care about me enough to come rescue me.
“Get dressed, little umbra,” Killian commands gently before turning his gaze back to Blaise. “Where is she?”
“She’s waiting in the formal ballroom downstairs. I came to get you as soon as she arrived, after assessing her intentions,” Blaise says as he walks towards the door. “I’ll wait outside so you can get ready, Aimee.”
The door closes behind him with a deafening thud, just as loud as the sound of my turbulent heartbeats in my ears.
Killian picks up the dress from the ground before disrobing me and pulling it over my head, as if he’s putting clothes on a small child or a rag doll.
I shake out of my daze just enough to grab his hand, my eyes imploring.
“Killian, listen to me. Something’s off.”
“Shhh, little umbra. Everything will finally be alright,” he says, his voice filled with hope.
“I told you she would come for you. Nothing can truly break a sisterly bond. I knew that when push comes to shove, she would forget any petty squabbles between you and do the right thing.” He drags me out of the room easily, my body too disoriented to fight back.
I’m lightheaded and feel a violent need to spill my guts all over the stoned hallway floors.
Nothing is alright, and as dread seeps into my bones, I realize I utterly fucked up.
I didn’t get the chance to reveal the truth to him, and now we’re facing whatever horrors my sister has planned for me.
What have I done?