Page 42 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Gabriel

S he didn’t say she wanted me, but dammit, she didn’t refuse me either, and I decided to focus on the positives in this blooming relationship between us.

I stared at the dark ceiling, the question of where to go from here and what lay ahead circling like vultures overhead.

Satan’s twins were orchestrating shit behind her back. The conversation I overheard between them couldn’t be taken as anything else, and if I stayed silent, it would be Amara’s and my beginning of the end.

Last night… with her… it was like a crack with a hope for our future.

She was unlike anyone I’d ever met.

Unfortunately, she came with the lunatic Satan twins, but I could handle them.

I just needed to get to Anya, tuck her away somewhere safe, and then I’d be all in.

This time there’d be no handling Amara with kid gloves.

I’d pursue her, charm her, and seduce her into submission. Until she was mine alone.

I shifted, glancing over at her.

She’d been dozing on and off, and I couldn’t help but watch the way her chest rose and fell, so fragile and so fierce all at once.

I wanted to be the man who kept her safe, but I also knew she could hold her own.

The cuffs from last night lay on the bedside table, cold reminders of our reality.

But Amara’s hand in mine all night was my reward.

It felt more than just a touch; it was a lifeline. A promise that maybe, just maybe, we could face the storm together.

I wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not this time.

Keeping my hand on hers, I felt the steady pulse beneath her skin. It was so alive, so real, with a fragile root of trust.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me, an intimate smile that stole my heart.

“Amara,” I began, “I don’t expect you to flip the switch and trust me completely, but believe me when I say that I’m on your side.”

Her eyes met mine and didn’t waver. Instead, she reached up, fingers tracing the line of my jaw.

“Thank you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It wasn’t exactly the response I expected, but it was a start.

I moved closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel her breath mingle with mine.

“I wasn’t going for your gratitude,” I whispered.

“I know, and I trust you, but I also trust my siblings. Just please be patient until we get to the bottom of this and then… Well, I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

Her words were a balm I didn’t know I needed.

“No, I’m not, preciosa .”

I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers, closing my eyes and letting the quiet between us speak louder than any fear or doubt.

When dawn came, sunlight filtered through the porthole, splashing over the sheets tangled around our bodies.

Amara stirred first, stretching with slow, easy grace. Her skin brushed against mine in a quiet, deliberate drag that made my pulse catch.

She trailed her fingers over my chest—lightly, almost absentmindedly. I let the silence hang for a minute longer before I broke it.

“I have to tell you something.”

Her fingers stilled, but she didn’t pull away. “Okay.”

“I picked the lock to my cuffs,” I said, turning my head to lock eyes with her. “I got out and scouted the yacht a few times.”

She didn’t flinch, but her eyes flicked with something sharp and calculating.

“I didn’t leave, obviously,” I supplied. “But I did learn something.”

“What?” Her voice was low, and her expression unreadable.

“I overheard Elira on the phone,” I said. “With Jet.”

She sucked in a breath. “How would you know it was him?”

“She had him on speaker.”

Amara’s brows drew together, the shift in her demeanor visible.

“Jet mentioned distracting you,” I continued.

“From what?”

Fuck, I was tempted to lie, but I couldn’t. “Their conversation was vague, but I think it was about Jet going for Anya.”

“Why wait until now to tell me?” she asked, pulling her hand from my chest.

“Because last night was real, and I don’t want to ruin this thing between us.” I paused, feeling the ugly knot of guilt coiling low in my gut. “But you deserve the truth, even if it shatters what we’ve built.”

She sat up, the sheet slipping down her body, revealing the scar on her abdomen.

“How do I trust this isn’t you manipulating me?” she asked. “That you’re not just playing me against my family?”

“I’m not here to play anyone,” I said, voice steady. “I just need you to keep your eyes open. And I need Jet to stay away from Anya.”

She exhaled sharply, staring at me with disbelief. “I already told you, there is no Jet and Anya. They’ve never even met.”

“Amara, have I ever lied to you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Not that I know of. But we haven’t exactly had years of honest conversations between us.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding since she withdrew her hand and reached for it again, brushing my thumb over the soft skin of her wrist.

“From the get-go, I was honest about my intentions.”

She said nothing as she slid out of bed and stood up, then began to get dressed. Her pants, her T-shirt, and finally her holster. I followed suit, dressing without a word, because whatever warmth lingered between us had cooled into something sharper.

“I think it’s time I have a heart-to-heart with my sister,” she finally said.

“I’m going with you,” I retorted. Her gaze flicked to mine—reluctant, searching. “I don’t trust your siblings.”

“You’ve made that perfectly clear,” she said without much bite to her words, and I couldn’t help but think that she was starting to not trust them either.