Page 120 of A House of Gold
"Me too."
"But I don't want to stop."
"Me either."
Through the binding, I feel his emotions, want and fear and desperation all tangled together. And underneath it all, something that might be love, even though neither of us is brave enough to name it yet.
I'm falling for him. An angel who owns my service, who's possessive and jealous and greedy. Who hates wanting me as much as I hate wanting him.
And in ten months, I'll have to leave.
It's going to destroy us both.
But right now, in his arms, in his bed, with his heartbeat steady under my ear, I can't bring myself to care.
I'll deal with the consequences later.
For now, I just let myself have this. Have him.
Even knowing it's temporary.
Even knowing it will hurt.
Even knowing that what we've started tonight can't possibly end well.
I fall asleep to the feeling of his fingers stroking through my hair, and the whisper of words I'm not sure I was meant to hear:
"Mine. For now, at least. Mine."
26
Iwake up in Croesus's bed with golden sunlight, fake, but beautiful, streaming through the impossible windows.
For a moment, I just lie there, watching the view shift from desert sunrise to mountain peaks to ocean waves. All illusions. All perfect. Just like everything else in this House.
Croesus is lying beside me, one arm draped across my waist. His face is peaceful, younger somehow, the perpetual tension smoothed away. I watch his chest rise and fall, listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing. He says he doesn’t sleep but whatever this is looks an awful lot like it.
Last night was...complicated. Angry and desperate and necessary all at once. And now, in the soft morning light, I don't know what to feel about it.
Through the binding, I sense his emotions contentment, possession, something that might be peace. He's not hungry right now. Not reaching for more. Just... holding what he has.
Holding me.
I should feel trapped. Should be planning how to reclaim the distance we lost last night. Should be putting walls back up before this gets any messier.
But I'm tired of fighting. Tired of pretending I don't want exactly what happened.
So instead, I carefully extract myself from his arm, slip out of bed, and find my clothes he’s brought in sometime while I slept, leaving them on the floor. I dress quietly, trying not to wake him. He needs the rest, I felt his exhaustion through the binding last night, the toll of maintaining control all this time.
I leave him sleeping and make my way back through the house's shifting corridors.
It's early enough that the hallways are mostly empty. A few servants pass me, their heads bowing slightly in acknowledgment. Do they know where I'm coming from? That I spent the night in their master's chambers?
Probably. The house knows everything.
I should go back to my room. Should shower, change, try to process everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Instead, I find myself drawn to the library.
