GinIt was supposed to be one drink. With Dane. I asked him out on a date. It was nothing grand. Just a phone call and, "Wanna hang?"Dane had declined, respectfully.But I'd gone anyway, all dressed up. Did I have anything in mind? No. I'd been holed up in my room for days, bawling and eating ice-cream.I wanted to feel good again. Wanted. Needed. I wanted one drink and perhaps, to flirt with a guy who didn't have a pregnant fiancée. The last couple of days of my life have been nasty and filled with tears and pain.I thought I'd try to make it different."I just want to talk," I had told Dane when he'd sighted me and started to retreat into the private booth.But all I could talk about was Sinclair. At some point, I'd started sobbing, and Dane had been very sweet. I really shouldn't have taken the glass from Naomi's tray. Or another. One glass became six, and in my defense...it was the most delicious thing I'd tasted.That too and whatever she had put into it that made me feel
Sinclair returns several minutes later when I'm slightly sober. His knuckles are bloodied and he has a split lip.He doesn't look me in the eye as he slips out of his jacket and puts it around me. He snatches my pants and hands it to me without a word.I take it from him, heart racing and I fumble around for a bit, trying to put it on. "T-the zipper's ruined."His head slices left and something rattles in his chest. I see more blood on his face, and on his shirt. His wounds have begun to heal and I can't help but wonder how Dane is."Where's...Dane?" Sinclair looks at me and snarls, like he is incapable of communicating with me right now using words. Like the only way he is able to let out is frustration is through that pained sound. Black flashes in his eyes and his canines elongate, resembling fangs.I feel his fingers around my neck before I even see him move, and I cough as my back collides with the wall.
The wind lifts my hair as I stare over the balcony, watching the water flow back and forth, crashing against the rocks that obscure its path.I think of Ray. I think of my father. I think a little of Alaric. I think of Dane and Naomi and the man I'd seen beside Sam. Dane had mentioned in the passing that Tim had been found, but I'd been too tipsy to care.My door swings open and I tilt my head to the side, watching Sinclair walk in. I don't move from the railing when he shuts the door behind him, eyes searching the room for me.I stroll into the room slowly, eyeing him sceptically. He seems...off.His anger seems to have waned and his face is a cool, smooth mask, giving nothing away. He seems relaxed as he dumps four large shopping bags on the bed, each filled to the brim with clothes and shoes."What's the occasion?" I ask, walking around the edge of the bed, sideling up to him. He edges on step back, peering down at me. "
I scuttle back, standing abruptly. "What are you doing? This is you trying to get back at me in some sort of twisted way?" I whisper.His brows furrow. "Now, why would you think that?"You literally just told me you weren't a very forgiving person. You literally just broke my fucking heart. You literally just tore down my walls and thoughts, the shield I had around my mind.It doesn't help that I know Sinclair, and he is true to every word he speaks. This scares me. My hands go clammy, and I swallow. "I don't...I can't do this now. I need time to process this. You can't just...spring this on me and--""Say yes," someone says from the crowd that has formed around us, taking photos and videos, oblivious to the tension between Sinclair and I; oblivious to the underlying problem growing between us."Say yes," another says, revoking a stupid chant that has my heart racing erratically."Say yes!"The voices echo in my head, and breaths start to leave my lungs hard and fast. This isn't righ
Sinclair returns in the next minute, slamming the door hard and walking over the grab me. "You say one more fucked up line about Dane and I will throw you off a cliff." "Just try," I retort, glaring back at him. His gaze flickers to mine briefly, a mixture of exasperation and something deeper in his eyes. "You vex me, Ginevra." "Likewise," I tell him as he cradles me with one arm, pulling open the car door. Begrudgingly, I mutter, "Thank you." His only response is a low growl in his throat, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. He lowers me gently into the backseat, and my fingers brush against his coat on the hangar. "Ms. Williams?" Sinclair inquires once he's settled in the driver's seat, and I gaze at the back of his head while tugging on his coat. "No," I reply, unwilling to go to Ray's just yet. Another day at Sinclair's might provide a chance to sort things out between us, to mend whatever bad air this is. I should like to try. I had bu
I pour in the mixed oils while I run the bath. The scent of lavender fills the bathroom and it's calming, relieving. Setting the bottles aside, I dip a toe into the bath, the water's warmth embracing me as I sink in. There's a soft, contented purr from deep within me, as I submerge myself, holding my breath for a brief moment. When I resurface, my head leans against the lip of the tub, eyes closed, and I exhale slowly, feeling my muscles yield to the soothing bath. I'll need to converse with Sinclair. Talk to him about Eliana and what comes next in this...engagement. Converse about...getting married. Sure, no one's ever really ready to tie the knot, but this? This feels too soon. Sinclair seems back to his usual self, and that's a relief, but it only confuses me further. Did he propose because he genuinely wanted to? Does he truly want to make me his wife? He'd said he would never hurt me. Has acted in accordance to his words and promises to me. So...is
Frightened, yet alive. And he hasn't even touched me yet. Sex hasn't been an enticing word for me in a damn long time. With Rune, and then...Alaric. The first had been an experience I had initiated, created. The second had been forced on me.That isn't why I'm frightened though. I know Sinclair would never hurt me. It is what comes after sex with Sinclair that frightens me. Will he stop being obsessed with me? Will he dump me and move on to the next?I hate that I doubt everything. That I second guess everything. But then, I've been through enough to give my trust freely to anyone. I've been through enough to really let myself believe that I could have a happy ending.It seems far-fetched. One good thing happens, it gets overshadowed by a ton of bad things. Damn, my life is full of so much drama, I can barely catch a break. I try to tell my story, but it would seem the one with the pen doesn't like me much. "Come," Sinclair orders, turning away from me. "Sit."And I
Sinclair's deep breath tickles my hair as he sleeps. I twist in his arms to look watch him. He looks rather peaceful when he sleeps. His full brows aren't knotted together or furrowed and his lips are parted slightly.His hair is tousled, both from my fingers and sleep. I smile and tap his nose, snickering to myself.Think I might have tired him out, if such a thing is possible. He's drifted in and out of sleep for the past two hours, awakening only to draw me close once more.Much later, after his ministrations, he brought dinner. He devoured it eagerly, while I nibbled, my belly feeling filled with things that weren't food.It had been surprising to see push the plates aside and fall asleep within seconds of eating. So yes, perhaps, I wore him out.I start to rise out of bed when his arm tightens around me. "Where are you going?" he murmurs sleepily, his words a soft slur."Kitchen. I'm thirsty," I practically croak. My voice is like granite, and my throat hurts.We had tried other