The Scribe - Hunter Elizabeth - Страница 44
- Предыдущая
- 44/60
- Следующая
“He arrived a few hours ago. Still sleeping.”
“Is our room ready? We both need sleep.”
“Of course,” Damien said. “Leo?”
The smiling man stepped forward. “We moved you to the second floor. The east room has the most space, and it’s coolest in the afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Malachi said.
“Wait.” She put a hand on his arm. “They moved your room?”
“Our room,” he said softly, leading her toward the stairs. “Thank you, Leo. We’ll see you later.”
“Rest well.” Without a whisper, he disappeared, along with every other man who’d been there a minute ago. Ava blinked back the blurriness in her eyes and followed Malachi.
“Wait… so, what? They moved me in?”
“I believe Maxim collected your things from your hotel after we left Istanbul. They simply moved them to a new room along with my things.”
“Isn’t that—” She couldn’t stop the yawn. “—a little premature? I mean, we’ve been… whatever-we-are for—”
“They don’t think like that,” he said with a smile. “They see the truth.”
“Oh?” She yawned again, walking through the door he held open for her. She entered a dim room surrounded by bookcases on three walls. There was a window shielded by wooden blinds and a beautiful mural painted around it. But all Ava saw was the bed. Low, covered with pillows, with the bedspread turned down. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She collapsed face-first onto the pillows, barely registering Malachi’s quiet chuckle.
“A little tired?”
“You haven’t let me get much sleep the past week, you insatiable man.”
“I think you’ve worn me out, too,” he said as he tugged off her shoes and jeans. Then he rolled her over and eased off the button-down shirt she’d worn, leaving her in a lightweight tank and her panties. The cotton sheets were a cool kiss against her skin, and Ava burrowed into the pillows as he pulled the bedspread up to her chin. “Sleep, my love.”
“You, too. Come to bed.” She pulled at his hand, rolling toward him with her eyes closed when she felt the other side of the bed dip. Then his arm was around her, and his skin pressed against her own. Leg to leg. Chest to back. His arms encircled her as oblivion descended.
“Malachi?”
“Hmm?”
“Your brothers… what do you mean, ‘they see the truth’?”
“About you and me.”
“And?”
“We belong to each other,” he murmured, his voice growing dim. “The Irin know how precious love is. How quickly it can be taken from us.”
“Still, so fast…”
“Perhaps… we have learned not to wait.”
Reshon, reshon, reshon.
She didn’t know whether the whispers were coming from his mind or her own. And for the first time, Ava didn’t care.
She woke slowly, the knowledge of who reaching her before the where. Malachi was with her, arm still wrapped securely around her waist. As her eyes blinked open, she realized they were back in Istanbul, in the wooden house with the green door, where she’d been greeted like family before falling asleep with the man she loved.
Loved to distraction.
She turned carefully, wanting to watch him as he slept. His face was covered with dark stubble, and his hair fell across his forehead, a frown on his face as he dreamed. His full lips pursed in disapproval at whatever visions he saw, and long lashes curled on his cheeks. He really did have the most beautiful eyes; his lashes would be the envy of women everywhere.
“Angels would weep,” she whispered, only realizing after she’d said it how truly ironic it was. Angels probably had wept.
The Forgiven. The angelic ancestors of the Irin. In the story Rhys told her, the Forgiven had been the ones who left. Leaving behind their women and children to return to heaven when they were called. And in return, their descendants had been blessed with knowledge and magic in exchange for their sacrifice. Ava traced the stern line of Malachi’s lip.
“I think I’d pull down heaven,” she said, “if that’s what it took to keep you here with me.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “And I’d abandon it if you weren’t there.” His eyes flickered open. “Good morning.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s afternoon.”
“Oh well.” He rolled over, dragging her with him so she lay over his chest. “Let’s go back to sleep and forget them all.”
Ava giggled and squirmed as he held her. “We should get up.”
“I’m well on the way. Can’t you tell?”
“Clearly.” She managed to wiggle to his side. “But I have some questions.”
“Oh…” He groaned and buried his face in her neck, nipping at the soft skin with gentle teeth. “Do I get a prize if I answer correctly?”
“Not those kind of questions.”
“What kind then?”
“Last night…” She shook her head. “This morning. When we got here. The things they said… That meant something, didn’t it?”
“Yes.” His voice held an abundance of caution.
“What did it mean?” When he didn’t answer, she rolled over. “Well?”
She started to sit up, but he grabbed her and pulled her down, curling around her as he spoke.
“When we went to Cappadocia, the scribes there greeted us as guests. You might not have noticed, as they’re not as formal there.”
“You were speaking in the Old Language, too.”
“Yes. But here… When we arrived this morning, Damien greeted us as family. In the old way, the way the head of a household would greet a mated couple returning to a retreat. He called you sister. He called you my own.”
A quiet suspicion began to take shape. “They moved us into this room. Which is quite obviously intended for two people.”
“Yes.”
“And all your stuff is here. And my stuff.”
“Ava, I—”
“Are you telling me they think we’re married or something?” Her heart started pounding.
“Irin don’t marry,” he said, just a little too quickly. “So, no.”
“But they think something.”
“They know we’re together. That’s all. I told them we were together. Aren’t we?”
“I guess…” Ava felt like she was trying to find her way in a dark room that everyone could see but her. “Yes, we’re together. I just want to know what’s going on. This is all happening really fast. Do they think I’m going to live here forever or something?”
She felt him stiffen, and his face went blank. “Are you planning to leave?”
“Not right now. But… I don’t know.” She knew her words caused him pain, but they had to be said. “I have a life, Malachi.”
He drew back, and Ava hated the distance immediately. “Yes, you have a life.”
“And I can’t just—”
“A life where you travel from place to place every few months, never putting down roots.” His voice was brittle. “You don’t speak of any close friends. You have a mother who loves you but doesn’t understand you. A stepfather who protects you but doesn’t love you.”
His words stung, even though Ava knew they were true. “You have no right—”
“You were alone,” he said, grabbing her hand and stopping her from leaving the bed. “Like I was. Even more than I was. We were alone, but now we’re not.”
The urgency in his voice, the raw honesty of it, cooled her anger. “Malachi—”
“Why do you want to leave that? I need you, as you need me.” He drew her back down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. “We can stay here. We can go another place. We can seek out the Irina who have hidden themselves and ask them to train you in magic. We can hide from the world if we must. I don’t know what we’ll do for money, but we’ll find—”
“I have plenty of money,” Ava said. “Money for a lifetime. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then why?” He kissed her again. “Why leave? I don’t care where we go, as long as we’re together.”
Her heart swelled, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Is this real?”
He smiled a glorious smile and kissed her again. “Of course it is. We can live forever. The two of us. Forever. Have a family. A life.”
- Предыдущая
- 44/60
- Следующая
