Page 56 of Ashen Souls

A protest formed on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. She was right.

“I want to tear him apart,” I whispered.

“I know.” The words fractured in her throat. “And you know what the sickest part is? A piece of my brain keeps running the math. Asking what I missed. Wondering if I brought this on myself just because I wanted one normal, decent evening.”

“Don't.” I reached across the small space between us, covering her hand with mine. “He made a choice to be a predator. You just existed. Do not do his work for him by taking the blame.”

She let out an uneven breath. “God, listen to me. Falling apart over cold coffee. I’m pathetic.”

“You’re surviving.” I pulled my hand back. “If anyone is pathetic, it’s me. While you were out there fighting a monster... I was surrendering to one.”

Harper went still. Her focus snapped to me.

“The hallucination?” she asked. “The dream demon?”

I nodded, the brand on my wrist throbbing in silent agreement. “It didn't feel like a dream this time, Harp. It felt real. Every touch. Every demand.” I forced the next words out. “When your call woke me up... when the phone rang... he was just about to...”

Harper slowly pushed her paper cup aside. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I stared down into the black surface of my coffee. “I shouldn't be talking about this. Not after what you just went through.”

“Aves, please,” Harper rasped. “I just spent the last ten minutes reliving one of the worst nights of my life. Give me something else to put in my head. Anything.”

I closed my eyes. The memory was too vivid, too demanding to stay buried. “First he had me on this obsidian altar.” The words slipping out like a sin confided in the dark. “And I… I went down on him.”

“Shut up. You? You actually...”

“Yes.” I couldn't look at her. The remembered pull of his fingers in my hair flared to life. “And he... finished. I tasted it, Harp. It was that real.”

Harper let out a disbelieving sound that was halfway between a gasp and a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Aves. And you call me the wild one.”

I pressed the heels of my hands over my eyes, trying to block out the chamber. “That's not even the worst part. I wanted it. After everything, I wanted him to ruin me. He had me begging. I felt him right there, about to…” I swallowed. “And then my phone rang. You called.”

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the rattle of a passing tram. A brittle smirk touched Harper’s face.

“Okay, so just to be clear. I cockblocked a literal demon. Incredible. Put that on my résumé.”

I lowered my hands and laughed. “You pulled me out, Harp. I don't know if I should thank you or apologize.”

“Well. At least one of us got wrecked last night in a way they actually wanted.”

Harper attacked her coffee with a plastic stirrer, though there was nothing left to dissolve. “Speaking of complicated men. You had office hours yesterday. How did it go with the brooding academic?”

I traced the rim of my cup. “It was fine.”

Her expression flattened. “Aves, please. I am clinging to my sanity by a thread here. Do not give me fine. Give me details. Give me the moody, tweed-wearing professor.”

I stared down at the table, but the memory unfurled anyway: his office crowded with towering stacks of literature, the soft amber glow of the desk lamp, his forearms bared where he’d rolled up his sleeves. The scent of cedar and old paper had tethered me to the room, even as his intense scrutiny made me feel entirely stripped bare.

For a brief moment yesterday, standing in that office had felt like the only safe place in the city.

“I asked him about the essay.”

“And?” Harper shifted closer, her eyes locked on mine.

“And he didn't just give me the answers. He turned it around. Asked me what I thought about the core theme. About Selene and Endymion.”

“Academic banter as foreplay. Only you, Aveline. Please tell me he at least touched you.”