Chapter 68
ADELINA
The first thunderclap yanked me out of sleep. My heart was already sprinting, palms wet, and the shadows on the ceiling looked too much like that night. For a moment, I forgot where I was.
Cezar.
He was dead asleep, chest rising at a steady pace, completely unaffected by the storm rattling the windows.
He’d given me everything earlier—his body, his blood, that dagger—and the bastard still had the nerve to smirk before passing out.
Now he slept like a corpse who couldn’t be bothered with the living.
Meanwhile, my skin wanted to peel itself off.
Another crack illuminated the sky. My breathing turned ugly, tears stinging before I could stop them. My fingers twisted the blanket until the fabric strained.
Fuck. I can’t do this alone. Not tonight. I don’t want to, not anymore.
I rolled onto my side, watching him in the dim light. His lips parted slightly, his jaw slack, a faint bruise shadowing his neck. He looked almost innocent—untouchable. Safe.
And safe was all I wanted.
“Cezar…” The word barely formed, more air than sound. I nudged his arm, pressed my forehead to his shoulder. “Please.” I needed him to chase away the thoughts coming after me.
He stirred, groaning, eyes shooting open. Confused only for a heartbeat—then alert the second he saw my face. His hand came up, warm against my cheek. “Petal, what’s wrong?”
The thunder answered, and I flinched. His expression softened, and he pulled me into his embrace without another question. I buried my face against his neck, inhaling him.
“Hush now, close your eyes…” His voice was coarse with sleep, but the words slid through me like silk. The lullaby. His mother’s song. The one he gave me that night.
A shaky laugh dissolved into tears. “Our song,” I whispered against his skin. “It’s ours now.”
He kissed the top of my head as he hummed, each note giving me something else to hold onto. The storm could scream itself to death outside. It couldn’t touch me here—not when his arms were around me.
When the next thunder rolled, I lifted my head, searching his face. He was still singing, but his eyes met mine, softer than I’d ever seen them. I leaned in.
Our lips brushed, hesitant at first, fragile. The kind of kiss that could break if either of us pushed too hard. Then he moved with me, deepening it just enough to anchor me.
It wasn’t a kiss of hunger this time. It was about staying and breathing. About not being alone in the dark. With his mouth moving tenderly over mine, I finally believed the storm didn’t own me anymore.
I used to tell myself storms were mine to face alone. Now I know the truth. My home has always been Cezar.