the bed moving as she did.
The door closed, and I sat alone, the mid-day sun pouring in through the windows. The baby-pink curtains hadn’t changed since we moved in, and I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom that I wasn’t in love with that color anymore. I hadn’t been even before Uncle Ryan started teasing me about it.
The ivory furniture was older than me, and the books and toys were still in place, like time had frozen on one side of the room. The other side had aged with me with my music, magazines, and the pair of daggers hanging on the wall that Claire had gifted me for my twelfth birthday.
A knock sounded on the door, and Bex peeked his head in. “Are you sleeping?”
I shook my head.
“You look like hell,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He turned. “I don’t think you want to see her.”
The door opened wider, and Levi stood there, shirtless, covered in tape and bloody gauze. He was hunched over and sweaty, dirt still smeared on his face from the many times I’d tackled or knocked him to the ground.
“Yes, I do,” he said, sounding exhausted. He shouldered past Bex.
“Easy!” Bex said. “Your entrails are going to blow out of that gash onto her rug, and then Cynthia will hate you forever.”
Levi ignored him, slowly making his way to my bed.
Bex sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Why did you give me him? I’m going to die.”
Levi crawled into bed beside me, lying down on his side, resting his head on my pillow. His brows pulled together. “I told you we shouldn’t have done that.”
“I’m more equipped to handle an attack than I was when I woke up this morning. I call that success.”
Bex closed the door, but I could still feel him in the hall.
I reached over, sliding my fingers between Levi’s, and he relaxed, letting his face sink into the pillow.
“I wondered how you were going to react to all of this,” he said. “I worried you would reject our life before.”
“It’s strange. I have the memories, and I know they’re mine, but I didn’t experience them—at least, not in this life. So, it feels more like a wonderful dream than a previous life.”
“It happened. I was there.”
“Me, too,” I said, trying not to laugh … or breathe. Everything hurt.
My eyes opened and closed slowly, feeling exhaustion setting in. I didn’t remember ever being so tired.
“How much longer do we have to do this?”
“Until you’re confident that you can leave me alone to fend for myself?”
Levi blew a damp tendril from his eyes. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“You don’t think I’ll get there?” I asked, surprised.
He peered up at me with tired eyes. “I will always fight with you. Always.”
I woke up alone in my bed. Sunlight was pouring through the window, and I sat up quickly—too quickly—feeling a deep ache in my arm. The floor was cold beneath my feet, so I slipped them into my moccasins and shuffled to the doorway.
Claire had come in during the night to help me shower and change my bandages. I made my way down the stairs in a pair of white linen shorts and a white oversized baseball shirt with peach sleeves.
My side twinged once I reached the last step, and I sucked in a sharp breath, looking down. My bandage had seeped during the night, making an oblong bloodstain on my shirt. I lifted up the bottom hem and peeled away the tape. The wound was just a light pink scar, all but healed, but it was still sore.
The doorbell rang, and I scanned the area with both my eyes and my senses. “Agatha?” I called.
When no one came, I peered down at my shirt and then tried to cover it with one arm while I answered the door.
“Morgan,” I said, surprised.
He gave me a once-over, shocked at the sight of me. “Is that from training?” He pointed to my arm. “Did Bex do that to you?”
“No,” I said, holding my bandaged arm behind me.
When I moved, Morgan caught sight of the stain on my shirt. His eyes widened. “Good God, Eden.” He glanced around quickly and then held out his hands, gesturing for me to come to him. “C’mon. I’ll get you out of here.”
“Bex didn’t do this to me, Morg. I, um … I had an accident.”
Morgan frowned. “But … the Audi is parked out front. It’s fine.”
I pressed my lips together. “I wrecked my mom’s car.”
“The Beemer? So … did she do