A Crown Of Smoke And Ash - Sloane Murphy Page 0,61
eyes. Roman takes my hand from its death grip on the chair, and hold it in his, not complaining at the ridiculous pressure from my squeezing. The plane evens out, my eyes stop popping, and I take a deep breath, slowly releasing my grip on Roman and my seat.
“Better?” he asks, and I nod, because yes, now we’re in the air, it’s not so bad. “Who would’ve thought the big bad Hunter would be scared of flying.”
I throw the empty paper cup in front of me at him, and he laughs as he catches it. “How long is the flight?” I ask again, I know I’ve asked before, but apparently my brain has gone into goldfish mode.
“Just a couple of hours. You should try and get some sleep, we’re going to get straight to work once we land,” he says, and pulls out a pillow and blanket bundle from below his chair. He hands it to me then pulls out another before getting comfortable.
“You expect me to sleep?” I ask, and he closes his eyes.
“I’m going to.” He shrugs, and I grit my teeth.
“Why, exactly, have you gone back into asshole mode? Less than ten minutes ago you were fine.”
“I haven’t changed, Princess. Maybe your expectations have after being with your flouncy, prissy, other lovers. Don’t expect me to be just one thing, because that’s what you’ve decided I should be.” His eyes glow as he looks at me before standing. “Maybe you should think about that before we land, and you’re surrounded by pack.”
He stalks over to the bench, throwing down the pillow, and laying down before covering himself with the blanket.
I have no idea what just happened.
He went from sweet to asshole in a heartbeat, without even a trace of why. I sigh and close my eyes, bringing my feet up on the chair he just vacated, and put the pillow beneath my head. There’s no way I’m going to sleep, but there’s no chance I’m just going to sit here and let him know I’m stewing on his words. Even if I am.
Has everything just hit him now we’re heading to his home? The fact that I’m his, but not his alone? The stresses of being who he is are, I imagine, monumental. I can’t imagine telling his people what is happening is going to be easy either, plus facing the back lash of it despite it not being his fault.
The thought of his leadership being challenged sends a shot of fear straight through me to the tips of my toes. That isn’t something I ever want to witness. Lycan power battles are legendary and brutal as fuck. I open my eyes and peer over to where he’s laid, one arm tucked beneath his head, eyes closed, but his entire body is taut.
This isn’t exactly how I imagined this trip starting, but I should’ve known better than to try and predict anything about Roman Knight.
His words about the others, about my expectations of him, don’t leave me either. I always knew this sharing thing would be hard, plus with the marks from Kain still on my neck, albeit almost healed, I can’t imagine that makes him feel any better either.
“Stop thinking so hard, Princess,” he says, his voice thick and gravelly.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say with a small smile, putting a little bite in my words that I don’t feel.
“I can sense it. The fear, the turmoil, the guilt. You can’t hide from me, Princess. You never could.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” I ask with a sigh, realizing there’s no point it lying about how I’m feeling.
“I’m taking you to my home, and you smell like them. All of them,” he says quietly, the edge of anger still riding him.
“I didn’t realize,” I say, not knowing what else there is to say. “I can shower, change? If it will help?” It might not be how I planned to spend the plane ride, but guilt fuels my actions. That, and the fact that I hadn’t even considered how he would feel taking me to his home as his, when my scent is mixed with the other guys.
I don’t wait for his answer, I just head to the back of the plane where he went with our bags earlier and open the door, finding a bedroom. Why the hell isn’t he sleeping back here instead?
For me.
I shake my head, and head to the room at the back with the shower symbol