Helpless (Steel Demons MC #5) - Crystal Ash Page 0,54

I never thought I’d have the chance to see again.

“…Shadow, is that you?”

I turned to see Mariposa halfway out of her tent, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No, I’m just a light sleeper out here, and woke up smelling coffee this time.” She grinned sleepily, making my chest ache. I wanted to hug her to me again, to feel her head resting over my heart. “What are you doing up?”

“I only took half a pill because I wanted to be alert. It’ll be dawn in a few hours anyway.” I took the percolator and began pouring the coffee. “Would you like some? Or are you going back to sleep?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleeping done.” Wrapped in a blanket, she came over and plopped down next to me, her knee brushing my leg. “Thank you.”

We sat quietly, with only crickets and the crackling of embers filling the silence between us. I kept my eyes on the white star things hovering in the distance, growing brighter by the minute. I was just about to take a closer look when Mariposa woke up, but I didn’t want to leave her by the fire alone.

Freyja’s crackling purr floated up from my opposite side, her head rubbing along my thigh before looking up at me with those knowing eyes. She didn’t need to say anything this time. The voice in my head was my own.

Take a risk. A leap of faith. The worst she can do is say no.

I spoke the words before I lost the courage to do so. “Would it be all right if I showed you something?”

Mariposa’s gaze flicked over to me in surprise, the fire embers lighting up her irises.

“Sure.”

She said it with no fear, no apprehension, and my body soared with lightness.

“It’s just on the other side of the camp. I can see it from here.”

I rose to my feet first, waiting for her to follow. She looked up at me, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a tiny smile pulling at her lips. After a final swig of coffee, she set the mug down and raised a hand toward me.

“Help me up?”

I wondered if she could hear my pulse. It thundered in my ears as my hand reached to clasp around hers, pulling her to her feet.

“Thanks.” She left her blanket on my bedroll, and removed her hand from mine to dust herself off. “Lead the way.”

I turned, walking past the sleeping Sons of Odin and toward the bright white things. If I was right, it could be a nice moment to share with her. That was assuming she didn’t think this was dumb or—

“Shadow, wait!” Mariposa called from a few paces behind me. “I can’t see anything. I didn’t bring my flashlight.”

“Oh, sorry.” I went back to her side, shame burning my face. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed lightly, wrapping a hand around my bicep. “You can be my night-vision. Just tell me if I’m about to trip over something?”

“Of course. I won’t let you hurt yourself.”

We began again, side by side. She squeezed gently around my arm, leaning on me slightly as I told her to step over various rocks and branches in front of her feet.

“Is this okay?” she asked at one point. “Me holding on to you like this?”

“Yes, it’s okay.” More than okay.

My other hand itched with the desire to cover her fingers, to feel what it would be like if they laced through mine, like I saw her do with her men. I kept that arm stiffly at my side.

“What are those?” She could see the white things now, bright as star-shaped diamonds clustered on boulders. “Is that what you’re showing me?”

“Yes.” My heart pounded with recollection, the familiarity of those shapes and their brightness back when I knew nothing but darkness. “They’re flowers.”

The blooms attached to scrambling vines that covered the boulder in a complex net-like structure. It was a cactus plant, the vines covered in spines, and looked altogether unremarkable, if even ugly without the blooms.

But the flowers, they were breathtaking.

“Oh my god!” Mariposa leaned forward, pulling me with her hand still around my arm. She looked back at me, the white flowers practically casting a glow on her face. “These were in your sketchbook, that pencil drawing.”

“Yes,” I admitted, cringing at the memory.

I didn’t know she’d come over, and had left my sketchbook open. She asked about it, and I slammed the book shut while telling her it was nothing. I had drawn the