How It Will Be by T. S. Joyce

Chapter Five

 

Ren sat perfectly still, perched on the kitchen counter in the dark.

Bron was different.

His face was twisted into a frown as he slept. His dark eyebrows were drawn down and his jaw clenched. A sheen of sweat misted his forehead, and the thin sheets had slipped off of him and onto the floor beside the couch.

Ren had excellent night vision and could see every curve of muscle, and every silver scar that decorated his body. He was lying on his side, facing her. A noise had woken her up, and when she’d come out here, she realized it was Bron. He was having some kind of nightmare. His six-pack was flexed as he curled in on himself slightly. Handsome boy. Handsome boy in so much pain right now.

His face was twisted into something she didn’t recognize. She’d never seen Bron like this before. Was he enraged or scared? She couldn’t tell.

Bron gasped and jerked hard. A short yell escaped him, and he lurched upward. Gasping, he sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the wall, his pitch-black eyes half-glazed over with sleep.

“Fuck,” he whispered in a shaking voice that pulled at Ren’s heartstrings.

He hunched over and rested his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands.

He didn’t see her. He didn’t even sense she was here.

Ren stayed frozen on the counter, her knee drawn up to her chest, wishing she could make the dream disappear from his memory completely.

She knew about nightmares.

Bron rubbed his hands over his face and looked up slowly. When he saw her, he went as still as a statue. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Instead of words, she slipped off the counter and padded over to the couch, perched behind him and ran her nails down his back gently.

Every muscle in his body was stone, and after a couple of minutes, he released the tension all at once. Just went to liquid under her touch.

Good boy. Ren ran her hands up the immense span of his back and massaged his shoulders. A soft groan came from him, and he accepted it when she eased him back down on the couch. She made her way to the light switch, turned on the ceiling fan above him, strode quietly for the kitchen and made him a glass of ice water, then set it on the corner of the coffee table as his dark eyes tracked her movements. She pulled up the crumpled sheets from the floor and smoothed them over his hips before kneeling down in front of him. Cupping his cheek, she broke the silence. “What did you dream?”

“It’s always the same,” he murmured. “I’m falling.”

A knife. That’s what it felt like in her chest right now. A blade cutting right through her. “Is it a dream or a memory?” she asked, knowing the heartbreaking answer.

“Memory. There’s not much sleep anymore.”

“You know what the cure is?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

She twitched her head toward the kitchen. “The clock on that microwave.”

“Time?”

Ren nodded. She rubbed her thumb over the short whiskers on his jaw. “You’re safe. Laken can’t even fly to drop you anymore. You’re in your home. You aren’t alone. I’m here and I’ll watch over you while you sleep.”

His eyelids looked heavy as he gave her a slow blink and a slight smile.

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “There will be no more falling.”

And then she felt it—his strong hand slipping to the back of her head, holding her in place cheek-to-cheek with him. “Yes, there will,” he whispered.

But she didn’t understand. Ren eased back and searched his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Bron brushed his knuckle under her eye. “You’ll see.”

She ran her fingers through his short hair. This was the most intimate moment she’d ever been a part of, but it felt right. She could comfort him. He was allowing it. Tomorrow, they would go back to being Bron and Ren, childhood friends, but tonight, she could put him back to sleep. She knew she could. A big dominant Crow Blooded male was being vulnerable with her, and she’d never felt more powerful than she did in this moment. More confident in her ability to make the night better for him.

She massaged his temple, then scratched her nails gently down his chiseled jawline to this neck and massaged there too. His breathing evened out, and slowed. His eyes looked heavier and heavier as she worked. It was supposed to be work, right? Spending her sleeping time focusing on making someone else sleep, but really it felt good. It relaxed her, too. She explored his body and massaged his shoulders, his arms, his back, his hips, and back up. He didn’t balk against her touching him at all. He just relaxed completely.

He was asleep. She could tell. She’d massaged him until her own eyes had grown heavy with exhaustion, but she didn’t mind. He was warm and strong and had trusted her with his body, and she felt good. A tingling sensation filled her, blurring the edges of her vision and making the room seem even darker. She felt drunk, but it was with relief. Or happiness perhaps? She’d never felt this before.

She stood to go, but he stirred and slid his hand to the back of her knee, pulled her back toward him, and lifted the sheet.

She hesitated. If she slept beside him…if she trusted him back…she would get attached. Getting attached was bad for a girl like her.

She cupped the side of his face again. She should go back to his room and go to sleep. But…God, how tempted she was to feel safe.

“Come here,” he said softly in a sleepy voice that she instantly adored.

Ren lowered down and climbed under the sheet, cuddled back against him as he covered her up. He wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her back tight against his strong chest. She should be panicking. She should be freaking out and making an excuse to escape to the other room, but she didn’t want to. Inside of her, the crow was content and watchful. Relaxed.

His fingertips dragged up her ribs to her shoulders, and the pressure from his hands as he massaged the stiffness there felt like everything she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

“Sleep,” he murmured in a barely audible voice. “You’re safe, too.”

With a sigh, she exhaled all of the stress from the last couple of months. From escaping Manning and being on the run, and always feeling hunted. From the last few years. Hell, from her entire life. From never settling into a Murder and always wondering what she should do next. Tonight, she could forget all of that and just be.

She rolled her eyes closed and snuggled onto his pillow better…and then her mind went silent, and everything went dark.