Soul Eater: MM Fantasy Romance by Lily Mayne

Author:Lily Mayne [Mayne, Lily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-24T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When I woke up, my body was overheated, and my limbs felt restless but too heavy to move all at once. Consciousness didn’t stay with me long. I didn’t even open my eyes, but I heard a hoarse moan leave me, and felt cool fingers rest on my burning forehead before threading through my sweat-damp hair. They tilted my head just enough for tepid water to slip down my throat, but I was already drifting off before my head was back on the pillow.

When I woke again, I was able to drag open my heavy eyelids. But wherever I was, it was pitch black—so dark I couldn’t even see my own hand an inch from my face when I reached up to rub my eyes. I had no idea where I was, but it felt like I was on an unfamiliar bed. One with a too-hard frame beneath a memory foam mattress, but the pillow under my head was soft and didn’t smell too musty.

The darkness was unsettling, making my chest tighten with panic. I heard my breathing speed up, sounding loud in the otherwise utter silence. When the mattress suddenly dipped on my right side, I sucked in a panicked breath so fast I nearly choked.

But then Wyn’s low, distorted voice came. “It’s me.”

I relaxed, a distant part of my mind absently wondering when that inhuman voice had become such a comfort. I didn’t dwell on it, though. My fingers were already reaching out with a mind of their own, to grasp onto Wyn’s sleeve so I wasn’t alone in this absolute darkness.

“Do you want some water?” Wyn asked me, and I nodded without thinking. But of course he could see me. Seconds later, long fingers cupped the back of my neck and lifted my head, the touch making me shiver. It felt strangely intimate.

I had a few sips of water to soothe my dry throat, and heard the soft sound of Wyn placing the glass back down on a hard surface. “Where are we?” I asked, settling my head back on the pillow. I knew I needed to get up, but I gave myself a few more moments.

I heard more than felt Wyn move beside me—the faintest rustling of his coat, the creak of a boot as he leant forward. There was a soft click, and then I was blinking in the sudden bright glow of a table lamp beside me.

I was laying in a bed—a massive bed with four posters and a canopy, in a huge room that seemed to go on farther than the light from the single lit lamp could reach, its corners still cloaked in shadows. The far wall looked to be solid glass, but there were thick metal shutters down over it, blocking out every and any hint of light. I didn’t even know if it was daytime or not.

“Some big old house.” Wyn’s shoulders rose in a tiny shrug. He was sitting beside me on the bed, one long leg folded with his boot hanging off the side, his knee inches from my thigh.

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