Page 82 of Ballad of Nightmares

“Let it out,” he said.

“Would it really be so terrible?” she asked. “To fall for the person who could bring us the sun.”

Sam looked down at his glass again, but he refused to give Millie the satisfaction of being right.

“It would,” he replied. “If I mean to use her as bait. Besides, wasn’t it you who keeps telling me to kill her?”

“But you know, the more I think about it, the more I think you’re right.” Millie looked at Ana across the room again. “She’s far too fun and delicious to kill. And that mind of hers… We could use that.”

The last bit of whiskey in Sam’s cup wasn’t enough for the knot in his chest. “What do you want, Millie? Do you want me to tell her how I feel, how… I don’t even knowifI feel, and bring her to the castle without knowing if she feels the same?”

Millie gave him a small smile. “Sam, this woman walked into your life at that festival, and you haven’t been able to get her out of your head since,” Millie said. “Damn your ‘reasons’, whatever they might still be. You told me today that she was the key to everything. What if she was also the key to your happiness?”

Sam resisted a laugh. “Death… happy…” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever deserve a happy ending.”

“And what about a happy beginning?” Millie asked. “A happy beginning with people you love in the world we fought for. That, Samarius, you deserve. No matter what powers you have and who you are.” She reached up to his face, brushing his cheek with her thumb. “I like seeing you smile again,” she admitted. “I like seeing you plot and giving a damn and being so passionate about this world and our future again. She did that.” The soft hand on his cheek turned into a gentle slap, and he winced at it.

“Don’t let her go.”

Sam spotted Ana leaning against the bar, another man talking with her, angling in a flirtatious manner, so he made his way over. The man was just trying to order her another drink as Sam slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her neck in a manner so claiming, the other man stopped speaking. Ana gave Sam a sideways smile, obviously knowing what he was doing, and she watched as Sam bared his teeth at the other gentleman. The man gave Ana a nod and backed away before Sam had to say anything else.

Ana’s lips twisted as Sam stepped in front of her. “Well, well… there’s that jealous side I’ve been looking for,” she said. “How many more men can I flirt with and watch you growl like that to get them to go away?”

Sam resisted a laugh as he sipped the last of his drink. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Did your friends leave?” she asked.

“They did,” he answered.

“And?” Her brows raised expectantly, and Sam almost laughed again.

“Are you asking if they approved?” He wrapped his hand around her waist, voice dropping as he looked her over, his gaze lingering in all the places he planned on kissing, biting, and worshipping her that night. For a long while, too.

“I am curious,” she said.

He bent closer, giving her a kiss on the very tip of her nose. “Yeah, baby,” he said softly. “If all of these people were not so close, I’d put you on this bar top and show you just how much they approved.”

Ana’s smile widened. “Get me home and show me against the window instead.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

FOR THE FOURTH night in a row, Sam had met the light of morning outside in his rose garden. He had only seen Ana twice since the night at the gallery, both too scared and too confused to even know what to do around her, so he’d lied and said he had work commitments. He’d made time to meet her for lunch or wake her a couple of times, though… because honestly, the thought of not seeing her tore his heart into pieces.

He hadn’t felt such confusion since he’d decided to deviate from Firemoor to escape his enslavement and find others willing to do the same. He’d fought with his mind then, doubted himself and all he desired, but it had been worth it.

Everything since that day had been worth it.

He hoped Ana was worth it too.

He didn’t wait for Millie or Rolfe that morning before speeding off into midtown to his art studio. He liked to keep it there so he didn’t have to transport his pieces from the castle, though he had a few there too. Pieces he never meant for anyone else to see.

Rolfe owned the tattoo shop down below, though he only took maybe ten appointments a year. He liked to do the line drawings himself and would tattoo extravagant pieces covering entire bodies. Sam’s own tattoos had been a mixture of both his own artwork and Rolfe’s, and his friend had been the one to torture him over and over with the needle.

He let his mind wander as he sat down in front of the canvas, his supplies already laid out for him from where he’d left them the week before.

His hands moved of their own accord, his music playing softly in the background. Sometimes when he drew, he allowed himself to fall so deeply into it that he would suddenly come back into reality, and he would have three drawings in front of him.

That day was no different. He needed his mind to shut down and let his body do the work. He was so consumed with thoughts and unfamiliar feelings that he could barely function. He’d even left someone dying in his sunroom for longer than he meant to the night before, and when he finally gave the woman attention, he felt horrible for the continued pain he’d put her through.