Chapter 165: Penny
The som still growls cutside, all wind and whisper, but it’s quieter now–tied, maybe. Like it’s winding down. I sit cross–legged on the bed, kes nend to my chest, wearing one of Asher’s t–shirts that practically wallows me whole. It smell the him–something piney, clean, dark–and even though her sour now, I keep catching myself pressing my nose to the collar.
The fire’s come back to life, Ekking at the air with soft ceange light, and the whole cabin has til golden glow. Like safety. Like gilet..
Then I hear the door to the washroom open, and he walks out.
My breath catches in my throat
Asher in nothing but grey joggers should be illegal. They hang low on his hips, revealing more muncle than should be posible. His chest, carved and dusted with water droplets. The scans, carved and slashing across his skin like stories written in Desh. And he’s not even trying. Just exnually running a towel through his hair like he hasn’t wercked me in every way imaginable. Like he doesn’t know he’s made of marble and wan
I can’t stop staring. My gaze traces the jagged line that cuts down from his neck to just above his hipbone. I’d seen the top of it befher, peeking above Ri collar–but never all of it. And nose, now I know it runs the entire length of him. Like a line drawn between death and survival.
His back… god. It’s even worse. Deep slashes across his shoulder blades, down his ribs. I try not to think about what could have done that. Shrapnel Fire Steel. He told me once he wasn’t supposed to survive. I believe him.
even like this–now and marked–he’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. All sharp lines and power and quiet restraint
He drops the towel on the bed, sits across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His hair’s messy now, damp and curling slightly at the ends. His stubble’s grown back in, shadowing his jaw, making him look even rougher. Older. Real
“I can feel you garine.” he says, voice Bou, like gravel warmed by fire,
Í blink, caught. “Sorry.” My voice is small. Embarrassed
He smirks “Don’t be.”
God, he’s unfair
y hluth, but I still as
I drop my chin to my knees to hide my blush, but I still ask, “His
He glances at it like he forgot it even existed. The class marks are red and angry against the pale bandage. A few spots bled through. But he just shrugs like
“You were literally mauled by a wolf-
He lifts a brow, like that’s a cute exaggeration. “Wolf was just doing her job. Protecting her baby. I’ve had worse.“,
“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to care,“ 1 murmur.
He just watches me for a moment. Something softer setting into his features. Then, without a word, he reaches over and pulls me into his lap.
fo, of course I go, because being close to him feels like prace now. I settle sideways across his thighs, one of his arms wrapping instinctively around my waist, the other hand warm on my bare knee. His skin is hot. Always. Like he holds fire under his flesh.
We sit like that for a lorg moment, listening to the wind die out beyond the walls.
“I still can’t believe you forgot about your own jury,” I say quietly.
He chuckles low in his throat, leans back a bit, eyes ramowing on me. “I was a little distracted.”
My heart statters. I know exactly what he dreams.
Some at him, soft. “Yeah. Me too
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Chapter 165: Penny
He watches me like he can read every thought I’ve ever had. Like he already knows I’m trying in memorize every scar, every line, every angle of knows I’ll never stop wanting to.
I touch his chest. Lightly. Trace a fingertip mer the top of the long scar that runs down his tores. “I hate that you had to go through thou
I don’t say anything. Just hold me tighter
I rest my head on his shoulder and whisper. “But I’m really glad you’re still here.”
Hit breath catches. Only for a second. Then he buries his face in my hair, and holds me like he might never let go.
And god, I don’t want him to.
Not ever.
I run my fingers down the star again. The long one. The one that traces from his neck down past his ribs.
I’ve barely let myself think about it before now.
But now, with his heart thudding under my cheek, with the way his hand is absently stroking the back of my thigh like it calms him to touch me, I think I
Should I ask?
Rooster’s fan–Anna–she’d said something once. Offhand, like she wasn’t even sure I’d heard
That nine of them didn’t make it.
Nine
The number echoes in my skull.
I hesitate, then pull back just enough to look up at him. His
is Lace in in
is in shadow, it faintly by the glow of the fire
Hi eyes open slowly Watchful, Calm “Yeah?”
T…
you something?””
A small flicker in his gaze. “You can ask me anything, Penny”
I trace the scar on his chest again with two fingers. “The long one,” I whisper. “That was from the last mi
He doesn’t answer right away. But he doesn’t shut down enher.
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