Desires of a Monster - Roe Horvat Page 0,40
over me like a hawk. Now she doesn’t have to anymore, yet she still does it.”
“Habit?”
I smiled. Maybe it was a habit. Or maybe he hadn’t really changed his instructions. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m better than I remember ever feeling.”
“I know. It makes me happy to see you full of life.”
I almost asked him then. How long do you want me to stay? My fear stopped me. I wasn’t ready to leave. I didn’t even want to think about it. The idea threatened to cripple me with dread and pain. So I did what I’d done all the time for the past few weeks. I distracted myself with what was in the now.
I carded my fingers through the soft hair on his chest and kissed his skin.
“You’re staying at the estate every day. How about you come with me tomorrow?” he asked.
“Where?”
“I’m going to the Town. You can ride with me if you want?”
Oh. As much as I wanted to spend another day with him, I couldn’t go there. “Not to the Town.”
“No?”
“I…I’d rather see more of the land. The villages and the forest. Next time, when you go that way, could I join you?”
“Of course.” He paused as if contemplating his next question. “Why don’t you want to see the Town, Rees? With me, you’d be safe.”
I had to reply, even though my words caused me pain. “There’s so much suffering in those streets.”
“I’m sorry, Rees. The day after tomorrow, we can ride out into the fields if you want.”
“I’d like that.”
He cupped the back of my head, and his other hand slid down my spine. Cuddled to his chest, I drifted, images popping up in my mind of pastures and woods, where we could ride together. The fire crackled softly, and fatigue crept up on me. It was a different kind of tiredness, though. Pleasant, less overwhelming, the kind that calmed and soothed me before I fell asleep.
“Are you content, Rees?” he asked out of nowhere, and my eyes flew open. I stared at the texture of his skin in front of my face.
I was happy. So perfectly, deliriously happy. For how long? How much more time did I have with him? A week? A year? When would he grow tired of me?
“I am. Thank you, Cariad.”
A kiss to my hair. “Sleep, darling. I’ll hold you.”
This time the questions couldn’t be silenced. I lay still, trying to appreciate the warmth coming from his broad chest, but my mind raced. Of course, he noticed; he always did.
“You’re restless, Rees. Are you too warm?”
“No.” I had to say something. If he kept asking, I’d need to tell him the truth. “You are the last one?”
“The last demon, yes.”
“How did they die?”
“They fought among one another. They destroyed each other with dark magic. I barely remember them. So much has happened in the thousand years since.”
“Thousand. Time must flow differently for you.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Sometimes, a minute can feel never-ending.”
“When?”
“Remember when there was a flood, and I knew you were waiting for me? The journey home felt like a decade, I swear. And then I had you in my arms, on my cock, and I wanted to stop the time.”
Maybe we weren’t that different after all. Maybe there was a possibility for me to stay with him.
“Have you ever felt alone, Cariad?”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone dies, and you live on.”
His hands tightened around my neck and waist. He pulled me closer.
“It’s always been like that, Rees.”
I pondered his answer for a long time. I hovered between wakefulness and dreams, conjuring up visions of him, tall and strong, ambling through barren lands, the last being alive on earth. Was that his fate? Did he feel at peace with it?
It was raining, and I knew he’d be late tonight because he went to Matthew’s Bridge again. I would have gone with him, but Jona needed me. We had two mares due within the next few days. The foals could be born whenever.
To shorten the wait, I roamed the library. It was already dark outside, but I had a couple of oil lamps with me.
The room was vast, easily the largest room in the house. Cariad had explained to me it used to be a common room in the citadel. I’d been here a few times, but never in this section. Here, the books seemed much older. Some were wrapped in linen, the parcels carefully placed next to each other. On some shelves sat small wooden boxes, no