Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
That’s where he enters.
It’s where I enter.
It’s where the blood flows down through the floorboards.
Where a man loses his life.
Loses his head.
I don’t regret a thing.
I wake up to Crane snoring again. I know he gets embarrassed when I mention it, which is why I do mention it. To see shame on Crane’s usually nonchalant face is a gift. To see color on those pale cheeks is a novelty. But the truth is, his snoring comforts me. It means he’s at rest, something he so rarely seems to be. It means he trusts me enough to let go, even when his whole goal is to watch over me. It might be the only time I’ve seen him truly surrender.
Sometimes that’s all I want from him. For him to submit and surrender to me.
Just once.
Just so he can truly be mine.
So I lie there beside him, caught between the wall and Crane. Barely any space, but there’s no place I would rather be than pressed up against his firm back, his taut ass.
Pale morning light starts to fill the window. The candles have burned out in the night. I move my hand, and the cut on my palm stings a little despite Crane rubbing on the healing oil. I’m not sure what time we got back to the dorm. We had to wait in the clearing until the drugs wore off. Kat fell asleep for some of it, and I even nodded off for a bit. Then Crane said it was time to leave. He closed the ritual when the ghosts were gone.
We dropped off Kat at her room, helped her go in through the window. There’s a chance the Sisters spotted us, since they seem to be watching Kat so closely, but it’s hard to know if Crane will get in trouble if I’m there. I suppose we’ll hear about it if that’s the case.
Then we collapsed into Crane’s bed, our bodies spent by all the sex and blood and magic.
Crane didn’t even remember to put me in chains.
But it’s okay.
He doesn’t have to do that anymore.
We have an agreement, the horseman and I.
His appetite can be quenched.
He can be controlled.
I just have to give him things in return.
I have to do what I can to keep him satisfied.
Crane lets out a deep sigh and stirs. My arm is around him and he reaches up tentatively, his fingers around my bare wrist.
“Brom?” he asks warily, voice rich with sleep.
“Yes?” I mumble into the back of his head. His hair smells like bonfire even though we didn’t have a fire last night. I think I might smell like that too. The scent of heathens.
“You’re not in chains,” he comments.
“No, sir,” I tell him, moving my hand so that I’m grasping onto his fingers. “You didn’t do your due diligence,” I add, knowing how that will hurt his pride.
I hear him swallow. “You were here the whole night?”
“If by whole night you mean the couple of hours of sleep we got, then yes. Don’t you think you would have noticed if I left?”
He groans, running his hand over his face. “I don’t know anymore. I could sleep for weeks. Do you think they’d care if I didn’t show up to teach today?”
“It would probably make the Sisters suspicious, if that’s what you want.”
He sighs again and then turns over slightly, looking over his shoulder to meet my eyes. “There you are. And you didn’t run away. Good boy.”
While I didn’t run away, I don’t deserve his praise. Not now.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair. “Other than wanting to sleep for weeks?”
He mulls that over, dark grey eyes flicking over my face. “Disappointed. With myself. The ritual should have worked. We did everything right. It should have expelled the horseman.”
Truth wants to bubble to the surface, this incessant need to be honest with him, but I manage to swallow it down. I can’t ruin this, not yet.
“We will try again,” I assure him.
He turns around, the covers being pulled off me as he does, and I’m pressed against the wall. Both our cocks are hard as they push against each other. “You seem different,” he says to me, putting his arm around me, his hand possessive at the back of my neck.
“How so?” I whisper, unable to look away from his penetrating gaze.
“Happier, perhaps? Though I’d never go as far as to describe you as happy. That’s too pedantic of a word. You seem…” he sucks at his teeth in thought, “a little less burdened. Which surprises me. Because I feel burdened in knowing the horseman is still with us. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
“I think I’m getting used to it,” I admit carefully.
His eyes narrow imperceptibly.
“You think you can hide under that brooding exterior, keep your secrets under that beard, but I know you, Brom. I can read you like a book. I know what you’re thinking.”