Epilogue
The smell of new books never got old. I wander the aisles of the small indie bookstore, looking for something to lose myself in. This store was quickly becoming a favorite. Leandro is nearly four hundred and bored with all the classics, I have to keep finding new stories to fill his quiet hours.
“Back again?” the shopkeeper asks, her smile stretching beyond polite. We’ve been in Australia too long if we’re being remembered. No, we’ve only been here a few weeks. The look in her eyes suggests she remembers me for another reason.
“Your store has what I want.” I might have said it with the double entendre. Finding someone to fill my nights has become the other pastime of mine. Maybe this bookstore can kill two birds with one stone.
“What are you in the mood for?” Her eyelashes flutter as she steps closer to me.
“For today, something simple.”
“I think I can find something for you,” she says, leading me towards the front door.
It would seem that the universe is trying to be cruel.
“I’m Dara.”
Thema’s middle name. I push the thought aside as the lock on the door snaps shut. She presses her lips to mine. I kiss her back. The burn on my wrist is minuscule. Every time weaker. Maybe if it ever stops I can move on.
“Nish.” Well, that’s my name now. Nishant, end of night. But without her, night never ended. I can’t even say my own name without thinking of her.
Dara grabs my hand and pulls me behind the counter and into a small storage room. More books and a large desk. She flips the light off, casting us into near shadows.
Stupid trusting nightblind. I should lecture her on the importance of verifying people before letting them into your dark spaces.
Instead I remove her shirt. Feel her hands at my belt.
Getting hard is still a struggle. I focus not on who I am betraying, but on the fact that I’m still alive and it’s not fair.
Dara’s pants join mine on the floor as I bend her over the desk. I know it’s dark, but faces don’t help. Nothing helps.
I can smell that she’s ready so I slip on the condom and get straight to it. The burn increases. Reminding me that she was alive. I power past it. Dara makes small noises.
At least she’s enjoying this.
The burn in my wrist flares white-hot. Different. Wrong. Not the familiar guilt-burn of betrayal. My knees buckle.
Then my entire body seizes. Pain explodes through every nerve, every bone, every breath. I collapse to the floor, gasping.
“Nish!” Dara screams, but I hear another scream. Louder. Ancient. Tearing through the bond I thought was dying.
The mate scream.
She’s alive.
Thema is alive.