sleeves revealed steely arms, arms I yearned to have wrapped around me. He had held me once, held me against him as he’d whispered words of hope to the naïve half-blood girl I’d once been. At least that girl had hope. What did I have now? I hadn’t realized how I’d ached to have company, and seeing him doing simple domestic things, like normal people did, left me speechless. Thankfully, he didn’t notice me blink back a surge of emotion. Inside of a few seconds, I had myself under control again. I hadn’t expected him to come back. The men in my life tended to disappear with no explanation, and if they did return, it was often with dire news. Yet, there he was, and by the looks of it, he could fry up a mean breakfast. The world really must be ending.
“Hey.” He spilled the strips of bacon onto a plate already stacked with toast, fried tomato, eggs, and a salad tossed on the side as an afterthought.
He’d been shopping for groceries too? For me? I hitched myself onto the breakfast barstool. “Wow, this is… Wow.”
He slid the plate to me and flashed a smile. “You have an institute tail parked outside.”
I tensed, a piece of toast half way to my mouth. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Leaning on the breakfast bar, he nodded toward the window across the living room behind me. “Enforcers are about as subtle as demons bargain hunting at a garage sale.”
“Were you seen?”
Stefan gave me a give-me-some-credit look. I shrugged and crunched into my toast. He hadn’t made breakfast for himself, I noticed. So not staying then. “Are you going to watch me eat?”
“I killed him and hid the body in the trunk of his car.”
A jagged piece of toast lodged in my throat. “What?” I spluttered.
His grin was pure mischief. “You think I would?”
“I don’t know… Prince of Wrath much?” I coughed and rinsed the toast down with some juice.
“Your Institute tail is fine, despite there being a kill-order out on me. I guess I’m reformed.” His lip curled. “Mostly. I can’t take back what I’ve done, but I can make up for it by stopping the princes.” His smile wavered. The memories of his encounter with the princes was obviously not pleasant.
“They really want you dead, huh?”
“I’m a half-blood prince—not the Hogwarts kind—and an ex-enforcer. Plus, my father’s the Institute’s employee of the month. I’m sure my every breath infuriates them. Not to mention, Wrath wants his title back.”
“Oh, well. At least we don’t do things by halves any more, right?”
He chuckled softly. This was…nice. Really nice. Too nice. I had issues with nice. Nice threw me off my game like nothing else. People being nice leads to hope, and false hope is a terrible thing. False hope got a nine-year-old girl killed. False hope allowed me to believe I could live a normal life. I put my toast down and frowned at my breakfast. As lovely as it was, I’d lost my appetite. One breakfast wasn’t going to make up for the past. Nor was it going to change the fact the netherworld was gearing up for an attack on this side of the veil. “Stefan… I appreciate this. I mean, nobody has ever made me breakfast before.” I looked up. The fine lines of his face creased with resignation. He knew it too. As much as we both wanted the normal, it was never going to happen for the likes of us.
He shoved away from the counter and strode across the living room to the window where he parted the blinds and narrowed his gaze, no doubt contemplating my Institute stalker.
“None of this changes anything.” I sighed. “What are we supposed to do? I can’t stop my brother. I can barely control myself. And he’s…” I gestured, as though shooing a fly. “He’s…him. All scary-immortal-lust-demon. All he has to do is look at me, and I’m terrified. And then there’s the thing…”
“The thing?” He threw a glance over his shoulder, brow tight in confusion.
“My owner wrapped around my insides.” I shoved the plate of food away and wondered if I had any whiskey left in my emergency stash. My fingers trembled. I curled them into a fist. Stefan noticed, but his neutral expression didn’t falter. I’d have better luck reading runes than that impossibly measured expression of his. “I’m not a hero, Stefan. That was your job.”
He barked a dry laugh, the sound guttural, almost dirty. “Like I’m the epitome of self-control?”