Yes, leaving Fox would mean giving up this peace and quiet, but maybe he could find a way to make this permanent.
And if not, he’d find a way to treasure the small break he’d been given.
Wiping the tears away from his eyes, Winter drew in a fresh, shuddering breath and picked up the knife he’d dropped. He climbed the stairs to the loft and closed the front door behind him before moving to the second floor.
He hated how Fox’s fearful eyes dropped to the knife first and flinched. But when he looked closely at Winter’s face, he saw something to make the anger and terror drain away.
“Winter, what’s going on?” Fox asked. His voice was full of worry and urgency. “Please, just tell me. I can see you’re upset, and if I did something…”
Winter moved around the bed to the side where he’d tied Fox and sat on the edge. Slowly he lowered the blade to the ropes and started sawing. It was damn faster than trying to untie the knots. The second he was free, Fox rolled away from him. He jumped off the bed, putting as much space between them while still remaining in the room.
Turning the knife so that the handle was pointed toward Fox, he stretched across the bed and placed the blade on the other side of the bed, closest to Fox.
“What’s that for?” Fox snapped.
“For you. I don’t want you to feel helpless again. I don’t want you to be scared of me. I’m sorry for tying you up. Sorry for scaring you.”
Fox frowned at the knife for a second before making a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. He picked it up, placed it on the nightstand, and crawled across the bed toward Winter. Kneeling next to the vampire, he squished Winter’s cheeks between both hands. “Tell me what the fuck is going on right this second. You look like shit.”
Winter closed his eyes, letting himself sink into Fox’s warmth for a moment. He was honestly stunned that the man was willing to come near him again, let alone touch him. “You…you have given me the most amazing gift. I was afraid to trust it. Afraid this might have something to do with the prophecy. I had to check.”
“I gave you a gift?” Fox repeated. “Then why do you look so bad? Talk to me. You’re scaring me.”
He couldn’t fight the urge any longer. Winter reached over and pulled Fox into his lap. The witch went willingly, wrapping his arms and legs around Winter’s body like a sloth clinging to a tree branch. Holding Fox in his arm, breathing in his scent—a haunting mix of soap, sleep, and Fox. The anxious, joyous, fearful parts of him started to settle so he could think clearly again.
“It’s a long story,” Winter began. He dropped his forehead to rest on Fox’s shoulder. It was easier to talk without meeting his gaze. “The short of it is that I’ve heard voices since I was a child. I never understood where they were coming from or even what they were talking about most of the time. When I became a vampire, I could actually see the ghosts I’d been listening to all my life. Even without going into the dead world. They were just always there, talking to me. They wanted me to find their lost daughter. They wanted to know why no one else could hear them. Sometimes they just wanted to know when the next bus was going to arrive. No matter what I did, they were always there.”
“Until you met me,” Fox provided when Winter fell silent.
Winter nodded against his shoulder. “With all our focus on getting safely away from Damon, I didn’t notice that the ghosts were missing until this morning. I’ve gotten accustomed to just tuning them out as best I could.”
Fox’s fingers threaded through Winter’s hair in a gentle caress that brushed away more of the tension still humming through his body. “You were afraid it was some trick or spell I’d cast.”
“I’ve wanted the voices gone for so long, Fox. Almost two hundred years.” Winter stopped when his voice wobbled. He took a deep breath and focused on Fox’s fingers in his hair, only starting again when he felt steady. “I wanted to be happy. It was a dream come true. But if this was a trick, some way of weakening me so I couldn’t protect my family, I couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t let