Chapter 21
Nadia
Iwoke up alone.
The space beside me was still warm, but Cristian was gone. The bond thrummed weakly in my chest, restless and uneasy. My head felt heavy. My body, even heavier.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Every part of me felt exhausted. Coffee. I needed coffee.
In the kitchen, Ezra was halfway through a sandwich and typing on his laptop. He looked up when I came in. “Morning. In case you’re wondering, I still haven’t figured out how to kill those bastards without killing Cristian’s brother.”
“Good morning to you too,” I said through a yawn.
He shrugged. “Maybe they all need to go. Wouldn’t be a loss.”
I frowned. “There has to be a way that doesn’t involve killing his brother.”
Ezra didn’t even pause. “I don’t see why that would be a problem.” He looked back at his screen like he hadn’t just talked about murder over turkey and mayo. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Kind of off.”
He nodded slowly. “Hanging out with a vampire can do that to you.”
Something in his tone made me stop. “What does that mean?”
Ezra gave a short laugh. “I’m sure Cristian’s different. But the ones I worked for could drain you dry without blinking. Sometimes they were calm and charming. Then, out of nowhere, it was like something flipped. I’m sure you haven’t seen that with him. He seems safe.”
The way he looked at me when he said it made my stomach twist.
I forced a smile. “He is safe.”
Ezra’s mouth twitched. “Sure.” He took another bite, attention already back on his computer.
I stood there for another second, debating whether to ask more, but something about his calm made me uneasy. I decided to find Cristian first. Then maybe I’d start figuring out who exactly Ezra was.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said.
“Yeah,” he muttered without looking up.
Outside, the air was cool and damp. The bond steadied the second I stepped out the door. I followed it through the yard until I saw him.
Cristian stood barefoot in the grass. The light washed over him.
He looked like he’d been standing there for hours, lost in thought.
It must have been nice to stand in the sun after years of being stricken to the dark and then placed in a casket.
I wondered, briefly, if when we broke the bond, I could find a way to make the sun safer for him.
I made myself a mental note to ask Ezra about it later—if Ezra could be trusted.
When Cristian saw me, something eased in his expression.
He crossed the distance between us and reached up, his fingers trailing down my face.
The bond quieted, settling into that calm that always came with his touch.
The jittering, anxious static in my chest melted away.
I was beginning to wonder if that was the bond’s doing… or just him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He looked past me, toward the dark trees at the edge of the property. “I cannot find my brother. The court will not tell me how to break the bond. Every attempt ends where it begins.”
I sighed and rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
His lips curved faintly at that, though the expression didn’t hold.
After a beat, I decided to risk it. “How are you feeling about Ezra these days? Does he still make you uneasy?”
Cristian went still. Not visibly, not dramatically, but it was a subtle shift that only someone tethered to him could feel. His pulse, the one I could sense through the bond, spiked almost imperceptibly.
“Why do you ask?” His tone was even, but there was a thread of steel beneath it.
I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change. “No reason. Just curious.”
His gaze sharpened. “Has he said something to you?”
“Nothing, really. Just… tech stuff. Court things. He’s helping, isn’t he?” I forced a light tone, too light.
Cristian didn’t answer. He studied me, eyes tracing my face as if searching for something I wasn’t saying. Then his shoulders dropped, the tension smoothing back into calm.
“He is useful,” he said finally. But the words were too measured, too controlled.
Cristian’s hand was on my waist, his thumb moving just enough to make my breath catch. Neither of us spoke for a beat.
“You are still pale,” he said finally. “Perhaps I should not have left you this morning.”
“I’m fine.” My voice came out softer than I meant. “Just tired.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up again. “You should rest.”
“Having a hard time shutting off my brain enough to rest.”
He gave a faint, humorless smile. “Then I will help you rest.”
The words shouldn’t have sounded like that—quiet, careful, charged. His thumb brushed the edge of my jaw and the bond pulsed in time with my heartbeat. My head tipped toward him before I could stop it.
He leaned closer. “You smell like soap and sunlight,” he said, almost to himself. “How is that possible?”
“Good genetics?” I whispered.
He laughed under his breath, a short, disbelieving sound. Then he kissed the side of my neck—light, testing. The air between us tightened.
My pulse stumbled. His did too.
“Cristian…” I meant to say something rational, but the words dissolved when he pressed his forehead against mine.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“You’re the reason.”
Something like a mix between a groan and a laugh escaped him. He drew back just enough to look at me. The line of his mouth softened. “I need a shower,” he murmured. “And you… are not leaving my sight.”
He took my hand and turned toward the stairs, still close enough that I could feel the heat of him. The bond tugged again, impossible to ignore.
I let him lead me up the steps, the sound of our breathing the only thing filling the house.
Every brush of his fingers against mine sent another spark through my skin. By the time we reached the bathroom door, my nerves were singing, my thoughts a blur of want and fear and something dangerously close to love.
He turned the handle. Then he looked at me, waiting—not for permission exactly, but for a yes.
And I gave it.
Cristian turned on the shower, and immediately the air in the room was thick with steam and desire. Cristian stood close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off his skin. The bond was a live wire between us—every pulse a quiet demand.
He reached for the buttons at my collar, movements careful at first, almost reverent. I didn’t breathe. His fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, then stilled.
He looked at me, eyes dark and certain. “You are impossible to resist, and I no longer wish to try.”
The space between us vanished. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto dissolved.
His hands found me again—firmer, certain.
I helped him, tugging at his shirt, the fabric damp from the steam.
Every small sound between us—fabric shifting, breath catching, the patter of the shower—seemed to fill the world.
When he pulled me in, it wasn’t graceful. It was desperate. His mouth found mine, and the kiss was the kind that made thinking impossible.
I tugged at his shirt, and he let me. The fabric clung to his skin before falling away. The sight of him like that—bare, unguarded—made my stomach drop. He looked almost human in that light, but his gaze said otherwise.
Steam curled around us, soft and white.
When his hands found my waist again, they lingered—not demanding, just sure. He drew me closer until my forehead rested against his chest. His heartbeat thudded under my ear, solid and slow, syncing with the rhythm that pulsed through the tether.
“Every time I touch you,” he said quietly, “the world steadies.”
My chest tightened. “You make it sound like I’m magic.”
“You are,” he said, matter-of-fact. “The kind that does not destroy.”
I laughed softly, but it came out shaky. “That’s a first.”
His thumb brushed along my jaw, tilting my face up. “Then I shall be the first to prove it true.”
The water rushed around us, hot and constant. Cristian kissed me again—slow this time. It wasn’t careful, but it wasn’t wild either. It was something in between. Something that felt like a promise.
When he finally broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, “You unravel me, Nadia.”
I smiled against his mouth. “Good.”
He gave a low sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You were never supposed to be good for me.”
“Too late,” I whispered.
I stepped back and let the water wash over my naked body before dropping to my knees before him. When I looked up at him through my wet lashes, his focus pinned me in place with raw hunger. “Careful, Nadia.”
I didn’t want to be careful, I wanted to wreck him. I placed my hands on the backs of his thighs and ever-so-gently traced my tongue up the length of his shaft.
He groaned and cupped my head, his touch gentle but firm. “I feel it in every part of me when you touch me.”
I swirled my tongue around the tip, teasing, and kept my eyes on his. His control thinned, and he wound his fingers in my hair, urging me closer.
I slowly took him into my mouth, savoring the salty-sweet taste of him. The water lapped at our skin, creating a sensuous rhythm that matched the movement of my head. He trembled beneath my touch. “Gods, Nadia, your mouth is like sorcery.”
I hummed in approval of his praise, and he groaned in response.
I used my hands to massage the sides of his thighs, wanting him to know he was wanted, desired. His scent filled my senses, and the warm water flowed around us, wrapping us in a cocoon of intimacy.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned as he lifted his head up into the water. Then abruptly, his hands were under my arms and he lifted me to straddle him. “I need to feel your release while I’m inside you.”
His hands gripped my hips as the water poured over us, and the way he held me made something inside me twist. I felt the tension running through him, but it was ready to break.
He slid inside me, and a sound I couldn’t suppress echoed around us. “Yes, Nadia, let go for me.”
I echoed his praise with his name. “Cristian, yes, please.”