When the Night Breaks (Midnight Series Book 2) by H.M. Darling

Author:H.M. Darling [Darling, H.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-10T23:00:00+00:00

I woke to fresh, cool air on my face. First, I stretched my feet, then my arms, and rolled onto my back. I’d spent the night on Wren’s couch. Neither of us were sure sleeping in the same bed together was a good idea—and I wasn’t ready to have sex with him again for fear of the heartbreak that came after.

Still, his couch was ridiculously comfortable, and Paris smelled like rain. I peered at the windows, surprised at how dark it was—another winter rainstorm today, it seemed. A quiet part of me wondered why Wren never seemed to close the windows.

I listened to Wren’s heartbeat and breathing. A moment later, I heard the flick of a page. He was awake and reading.

“What are you reading?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep as I pulled the gray fleece blanket to my chin.

Wren hummed in acknowledgment. “Wuthering Heights.”

I snorted. “Are you always so pretentious?”

“What would you have me read instead?” The book snapped closed. I had his full attention; butterflies erupted in my stomach.

“How about a fae romance?”

“No.”

“Regency with dark magic?”

“Possibly.”

“And an unbelievable smut scene with the enemies finally become lovers?”

“No.”

I laughed, blushing bright pink at the thought of Wren shaking his head on the other side of the wall. My amusement faded, and I curled further into a ball. “Wren? What do we do now?”

My heart galloped when Wren stood. His footsteps seemed to echo as he approached the door to his room. I felt breathless when he stepped out. His hair was mussed, like he’d slept but hadn’t brushed it yet. He wore a gray shirt and blue pajama pants. For a moment, he appeared so painfully human that my heart ached.

I wished we could be normal.

No, instead, we were vampires, and our struggles were… immortality and nightmares about murder.

“What are you comfortable with?” Wren asked, resting his hip on the door frame.

I shook my head meekly. “I don’t know.”

He dragged his tongue over his top lip, like he was tasting his thoughts on his tongue. Shivers ran down my spine. “What if we go on a date?”

“A date?” I echoed, pushing myself up. The sleeve of the shirt I wore, his, fell off my shoulder. Wren gulped and took a step back.

“No sex,” he blurted.

I blinked. “What?”

“That’s the worst of what’s hurt you, right? Let me prove that I’m not using you for sex.”

I tilted my head. “For how long?”

“Until you say otherwise.”

I snorted. “I can’t be trusted. Have you seen yourself?”

Wren looked down at his clothes and crinkled his nose in distaste. I frowned, kicking my legs out from under the blanket—my bare legs. Black veins rippled beneath Wren’s eyes. I pulled the blanket back with a blush.

“Let’s start with a week,” Wren said, his voice strained. “If we can make it a week, then we’ll talk again.”

“Okay,” I breathed. I sat back and pulled the blanket to my chest. “So, about that date?”

Wren flicked his tongue against his fangs, humming. “What kind of date do you

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