Page 24 of Fate Promised

He tried not to listen for the slight rustling of sheets upstairs and closed his eyes.

9

As midnight approached, Triska walked down the stairs, stepping over the squeaky one to get down to the living room. The fire was a lump of black embers, a few streaks of red left in the logs as they held onto the last gasps of flame. Also lighting up the dark room were Juri’s golden eyes, watching her as he lay sprawled on the floor with his hands behind his head.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He sat up. “You can’t sneak up on a vulk.”

She pointed at the cushions he’d spread in front of the fire. “As I was falling asleep, I realized the couch was far too small, so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

His lips curled into a half smile. “I’ve slept on the floor often, this is fine. Besides, you have a squashy rug.”

She smiled, too. “It’s just like when you used to sleep on the floor next to my bed because I was afraid of the dark.”

He rose to stand, and her breath caught. The hair on his head was rumpled, and his trousers seemed to sit even lower on his hips. In the pale light of the moons shining through the window, he looked every inch the mythical immortal from tales. Ethereal and wild. He didn’t seem to fit inside a snug cottage; he seemed destined for dark forests and stark mountains. Places she didn’t go.

Ever since the rune let loose with its poem about them and split in half, she … felt … him in her chest. Like an invisible rope tethered them together. When they were kids, and the rune showed up, she hadn’t felt anything like that. All it did was leave the mark on her skin.

This time was different. And with it came a need to have Juri close. Really close. She’d come down to him because of the couch but also because she’d wanted—needed—him closer.

“And you usually crawled out of bed and lay next to me.” His voice took on a deeper tone, almost a croon.

When they were kids, his mother had converted her sewing room into a small bedroom for Triska because she spent so many nights at the house. Triska’s mother would travel, and no one really knew where she went. Most of those nights, Juri ended up sleeping on the floor next to her bed, and she’d crawl down to curl up beside him.

His eyes seemed to gleam. “I hoped maybe that was what you were sneaking down here to do tonight. To curl up next to me.”

Awareness prickled across her skin as they stared at each other. Her clock on the wall, one of the old-fashioned ones with a cuckoo, ticked, and it was the only sound. Five ticks. Ten. “I came to offer you my bed.”

His lips curled into a half grin again. “Och, you don’t have to give up your bed for me, but I’ll take it.” He strode forward as if to walk upstairs without her.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward her. He stood inches away, and her gaze drifted to his chest. His bare chest.

The same awareness built around them, like seeing a bolt of lightning and waiting for the rumble of thunder to follow. They both seemed to be waiting for something. A signal. A change. A moment that signaled a shift from lost childhood friends to something … else.

“I’ll be in bed with you.” She held out a trembling hand for him to take, hoping she hadn’t read this wrong, that he wanted it too.

One moment he was in front of her, and in another, he’d swept her into his arms. She squeaked, then laughed. As he trod softly up the wooden stairs, a faint scudding echoed in the quiet. She ran her hand up his shoulder to put around his neck and a low rumble emanated from his chest. Burrowing closer, she stroked him again. The purring got louder.

At the doorway to her room, he paused. “Your bed is big enough to fit a vulk.” When she’d bought the house, it came with a bed built into the room. It had its own nook along the entire back wall where the roof caused the ceiling to slope downward.

As Juri stepped forward, his ears brushed nets hanging from the exposed rafter, filled with clothes and other odds and ends. She’d set the room up to be like a bunk at sea.

He settled her into the middle of the bed and shifted some blankets, destroying her nice nest.

She sat up. “Hey, I like all my cozies around me when I sleep.”

“I’ll be your cozy.” He lay down and curled around her. She turned so she faced him, both lying on their sides, a few inches apart.

“I like to be warm. Really warm.”

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. His head dipped to her neck, and his breath fanned under her ear. “How’s this?”

She ran her hand up his stomach and over his chest. He went still under her touch, then his rumbling purr started again. “I’ve had worse sleeping arrangements,” she said. She stroked him again. “You’re right, you run nice and warm.”

He remained motionless. Even his chest barely moved as he breathed. She shifted her legs closer, letting her thigh brush against his. Brush against the bulge between his legs.

Her heart pounded, and she inhaled sharply. A truly large bulge. Juri was definitely aroused, yet other than laying his hand along her waist, he hadn’t moved any closer.