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This is just sex, I remind myself. Just a transaction. These feelings—this warmth, this jealousy, this delight in our exchanges—they're nothing but hormones and proximity.
So why does it feel like so much more?
14
TRINITY
Aweek passes in a blur of nausea, unexpected naps, and Jackie's endless cups of special tea. I've established a routine of sorts—wake up, rush to the bathroom, sip tea while Jackie chatters about everything and nothing, rest when my body demands it, which is embarrassingly often.
But today, the routine breaks because Vael is back.
I hear him before I see him—heavy footsteps on the stone path outside, followed by the door swinging open. My body reacts before my mind can caution against it, heart speeding up, senses sharpening. It's been a week without his looming presence, his intense gaze, his sardonic remarks.
Not that I've missed him.
"You look like shit," Jackie announces from the kitchen doorway, her customary greeting apparently extended to everyone.
"Charming as ever, Jackie." Vael's deep voice reaches me where I'm curled on the couch in the sitting room, a blanket around my shoulders despite the mild temperature.
I stay perfectly still, listening to their exchange.
"Successful hunt?" Jackie asks.
"Yes."
"Anyone die?"
"Only who needed to."
"Cool. Dinner's in an hour."
Their easy rapport prickles at me. Even knowing Jackie is happily committed elsewhere doesn't stop the irrational possessiveness that flares in my chest. Another emotion I have no business feeling.
Heavy footsteps approach the sitting room. I quickly grab the book beside me, pretending to be absorbed in its contents when Vael appears in the doorway. His massive frame blocks the light, casting me in shadow.
I look up with carefully practiced indifference. "You're back."
His red-gold eyes move over me slowly, taking in the blanket, the book clutched too tightly in my hands, the cup of tea on the side table. "You're pale."
"That's my natural complexion," I counter, setting the book aside. "Not all of us can achieve that attractive ash-gray tone."
His mouth quirks up at one corner as he moves into the room. I catch sight of a new cut along his jawline, already healing but still visible. Without thinking, I ask, "Did your bounty fight back?"
Vael's fingers drift to the mark. "This? No. He was too busy begging." He sits in the chair opposite me, his large body making the furniture seem delicate by comparison. "This was from stopping in Ezzid on the way back."
That city is at the far north of the continent. "Stopping for what?"
He doesn't answer, reaching instead into a pocket and pulling out a small pouch. He tosses it onto the low table between us.
I look at it suspiciously. "What's that?"
"Open it and find out."
With hesitant fingers, I undo the drawstring and tip the contents into my palm. A bracelet slides out—delicate silver links interspersed with small blue stones that catch the light.
"It's a protective charm," Vael says, watching my reaction closely. "The stones are from Ikoth. They're known to ease pregnancy symptoms. At least, that's what the merchant claimed."
I stare at the bracelet, then at him. "You... bought me jewelry?"