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As if I’ve always known how, I reach out with something inside me and dive into him.

He can sense my growing distress and it’s beginning to stir him back to consciousness.

Not ready to face him or talk to him yet, I force myself to calm down. Utilizing this new bond he’s created between us to my advantage, I reassure him that everything is well.

Doubt still flickers inside him, but he’s so exhausted waking is a struggle. When I begin topurrto soothe him, he happily and gratefully drifts back to sleep.

The smile reappearing.

I carefully watch his face for a sign that my deception has failed and find myself becoming fixated again.

Fixated on how such a handsome man could want a broken woman like me…

It’s only the sudden awareness of anotherpresencenear us, lurking outside our door, that pulls me out of my trance.

Dragging my eyes away from Raphael’s face, I look down at his naked, sculpted chest and consider the best way to move without waking him.

Carefully and slowly, I slide myself downward. Ignoring how wonderful it feels to have his skin sliding against my skin.

It’s like tiny little sparks are dancing across my own naked flesh.

When I reach the point of his arm dropping off me, I gently wrap my fingers around his wrist and lower it down until it’s resting against him.

Feet finally touching the floor, I straighten and risk another look at his face.

Thankfully, he still sleeps the sleep of the dead.

Turning away before I can become fixated again, I take in the room around me. At first, it’s unfamiliar, but then bits and pieces of memory come back to me.

I know Raphael moved us here… for some reason.

And I know we drank from each other and made love everywhere. Against the walls, on the ceiling, the floor, and even the dresser.

No wonder he’s worn out.

Moving toward the dresser, I open a drawer and peer at the neatly folded clothes available. Grabbing a blue dress, I yank it over my head and push my arms through the sleeves.

The length of the dress slides all the way down my body, the bottom of the skirt stopping only a few inches above the floor.

“I knew you would like that dress, dear sister,” a voice sing-songs quietly outside the door. “The moment I saw it, I knew it would suit you. It matches your eyes.”

Out of instinct, I spin around and stare hard at the door. Knowing whoever is on the other side is the one who spoke.

Fear wants to take hold, but I fight it back. More afraid of waking Raphael.

“There’s no need to be afraid. Do you not recognize my voice, sister?”

“Ambrose?” I whisper hesitantly.

“Yes!” he exclaims in delight.

I frown. Out of all the vampires I’ve met in Raphael’s coven, he’s not the one I’d prefer lurking nearby. Though he was friendly when we first met and was even protective, his appearance is disturbing, to say the least.

Not to mention, Raphael said he’s broken and can sometimes be unpredictable.

“What are you doing outside my door?” I ask as nicely as possible.

“Protecting you, of course,” he sing-songs. “Would you like to dance? The others will be asleep until night falls.”