Gray: A Dark Romance (Stalked by a Monster) by Measha Stone

Author:Measha Stone [Stone, Measha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2022-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

Out of the ashes, I’m burning like a fire

You can save your apologies

You’re nothing but a liar

I’ve got shame, I’ve got scars

But I will never show

I’m a survivor

In more ways than you know

I don’t look up at him because I don’t have to. I can feel him. The same way I can feel the notes float around me as I come to the end of the song. And when the last note is played, I open my eyes and breathe. Gently, I lower the violin to my knees and rest it as I bring my eyes up to meet his.

Dorian’s gaze is fixated on me. Did he look away even for a moment while I played?

“You transform when you play,” he finally says after the silence stretches too long for comfort. “All the tension in your shoulders evaporates immediately, and you’re just, well, it’s like you are the music.”

The way he describes my playing feels intimate. Too intimate.

He comes to stand right in front of me and squats down until our eyes are lined up. “What song was that? It sounded familiar but I can’t place it.”

I swallow as my cheeks heat slightly. “‘Warrior.’” I raise my chin. If he teases me for the contemporary song, I won’t let it hurt me.

He tilts his head to the side. “Can you sing it?”

“No.” I laugh. “The only musical talent I have is with my fingers.” I wiggle them in front of his face.

“Hmm.” He slides the violin from my lap and stands it up, leaning it beside me on the chair. He takes the bow from my lap and stands back up. “What’s the bow made out of?” he asks while stroking the ribbon.

“Horsehair.” I cross my ankles and press my hands into my knees.

He runs his thumb along the hairs then rubs it against his forefinger.

“That’s the rosin,” I explain when he looks to me. “It helps the hairs glide over the strings to make a better sound. It probably needs more.”

“It will do, I think.” He taps it to his leg. “Stand up, Sylvia. And get out of those clothes.”

Before I do, I can’t help but ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s my turn to play.”

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