I lay awake with a cold and creeping certainty that something was wrong. Wholly and utterly wrong. But I never broke my rules, never got out of bed before Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy called me out of it at six am sharp.
But…there was just something off tonight.
With a growl of frustration which I knew equalled me losing my shit and beating myself up for my own paranoia if I was wrong about this, I threw the covers off of my bed and pushed myself out of it.
I stalked toward the railing which lined the balcony beyond the foot of my bed, stretching my arms above my head and my spine cracked in a satisfying way.
The glow of starlight through the stained glass window fronting the church wasn’t nearly enough to see by and the space below me was little more than patches of darkness in varying depths.
I traced my fingers over the tattoo which curved across my chest, the lines of the script that Kyan had placed upon my flesh so familiar to me that I could follow them even without light to see it by. The days are long, but the nights are dark. Thatsentiment resounded with me soul deep. Sometimes I wondered if it really was my demons who tortured me in the night or if perhaps it was actually the whispering voice of my conscience desperately trying to cling to life amid the horrors I’d tried so carefully to drown it in.
I headed downstairs on bare feet, following the familiar curving route of the wooden steps easily in the dark before I flicked on a lamp at the foot of them.
Kyan was sprawled on the couch, breathing deeply in sleep, one hand cupping his junk inside his boxers like he was worried someone might try and steal the thing in the night. Though, I guessed after what that whore Deepthroat had tried to do him, maybe it was actually a protective move. The thought of that made my skin prickle uncomfortably but my soul sang a little at the memory of our girl beating the shit out of her in the dirt when she found out what she’d done. I wondered if that moment had seemed as important to Tatum as it had to me. Because the sight of her throwing herself into a fight on behalf of our family had been almost transcendent to me. It felt like her finally taking her place amongst us seriously, fighting for us and standing firm at our sides no matter what. It was the beginning of something truly beautiful. I knew it in the deepest recesses of my dark soul.
My gaze swept around the rest of The Temple. There was nothing out of place, but my soul was still restless, my heart thumping to an uncertain rhythm.
I stalked away from Kyan, checking the front door was locked as I passed it and thinking I spotted a shadow in the trees beyond the window as I glanced out. But when I looked again, there was nothing there.
I almost unlocked the door to go out and make sure of that, but then my gaze fell on Kyan again. It was his night with Barbie and I didn’t like the way he kept skirting the rules which said she had to sleep in his bed by sleeping out here so as not to be with her. I didn’t really understand why the fuck he’d rather be out here than near her anyway. Even if he was determined to stay pissed at her. Even if he truly wanted to believe he hated her. It was clear he still wanted her, so why deny himself like that? It didn’t make any damn sense to me.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, wondering if it had finally happened. If I’d cracked and the voices in my head had actually gotten loud enough to take charge. Although, in all reality, I knew the voices weren’t external. They were just my rambling inner monologue shouting at me in a series of demands or desires which I needed to help temper the panic which liked to creep up on me unawares. They were just a crutch I’d created to help me deal with the things in life that I had the most trouble processing. A system for me to lay out my needs, desires and fears in a way that I could sort through individually when I was feeling overwhelmed. Their thoughts were my own. Even if they were jumbled and loud and aggressive and terrifying sometimes. At least, I hoped so, anyway.
I’d already broken one of my most absolute rules by getting out of bed and opening my eyes before six am. If I went back now without making utterly sure that everything was alright, then I knew there was little chance of me getting any sleep tonight. And I’d probably be on the warpath all day tomorrow too.
I gritted my teeth so hard that I was sure I might crack one if I didn’t ease up, then paced the rest of the way to Kyan’s room.
I hesitated at the door, my heart pounding at the idea of seeing her there, lying in his sheets, swamped in one of his shirts, just like she’d been the morning after they’d broken the rules together. And though Kyan’s position on the couch made it clear that no such thing was happening between them now, I had to wonder why that memory pissed me off so much.
It was the same when I thought about her and Blake. And when I’d watched the two of them touching her the other week, kissing her, making her pant and moan for them as they drew enough pleasure from her body to make her scream,
