Ashes (Page 57)

Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him tighter against her, needing more of him, wanting all of him. This was right, this was where she belonged, where she would always belong. Since the moment she met him, he had owned her heart, body, and soul. He was her perfect other half, he was the only one that could ever make her whole.

His kiss became almost painful in his desperation and need. His hands slid her baggy sweatshirt up, stroking over her skin, caressing her gently as his fingers slid down to the waist band of her workout pants. Though she was swept away in a rising wave of passion and pleasure, a bolt of fear tore through her. She loved him, she truly did, but she was not ready for this. Not after this night, and not when she was still so rattled and shaken.

“Stop, Devon, wait,” she managed to gasp out, tearing her mouth from his, knowing that if she did not stop this now she never would. He pulled back, his body stilling against hers, his eyes questioning and worried. “I can’t, I’m not ready.” She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze again as humiliation burned through her. She was sure that Isla had never told him no. Cassie shuddered at the thought. She was acting like a silly child, she knew that, but she simply was not ready for this. Especially not when she still felt so raw, and wounded. “I’m sorry.”

“Cassie look at me. Look at me,” he ordered again when she kept her gaze firmly planted on her bureau. Slowly, trying to keep her shaking under control, she met his gaze again. “I don’t want to do anything that you are not ready for. I’ve waited over seven hundred years for you, and I’ll wait for you forever. When you are ready, I will be here Cassie. For you, I can do anything.”

She began to cry, soft sobs wracked through her as relief and love filled her. Rolling off of her, he pulled her tight against him as he cradled her gently. She did not doubt his words; she simply wished that she would be enough for him when the time came. That he would not be disappointed in her. That he would not compare her to them, and find her lacking. She also wished that her doubts about changing for him weren’t back, wished that she could ease the need that radiated from him constantly. But she was frightened of his world, weary of the cruelty and constant hunger that filled it.

She rested her hand on his chest, curling her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She frowned when he seized hold of her hand, moving it to the other side of his chest. It took her a moment to realize that this was what he did every time she rested her hand over the spot where his heart should be beating. It was one of the reasons she had never noticed his lack of a heartbeat before. Well, that and the fact that she had been too blinded and infatuated with him to notice much of anything else.

But now, she noticed.

Tugging her hand free, she rested it back over the empty hollow of his chest, slightly disturbed by the lack of a heartbeat, but she loved him too much to care. “No,” she whispered when he reached for her hand again.

“Cassie,” he groaned. “You don’t need to be constantly reminded of what I am.”

She lifted her head out of the hollow of his arm to meet his gaze. “You’re the person I love Devon, and I want to be reminded of that fact every second of the day.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide and bright. His hand tightened around hers, pressing it tighter to his silent chest. Cassie smiled softly at him as she bent to kiss him, loving the wonderful feel and scent of him as she lost herself to the bliss that he offered her.

***

Despite the awful events of the night, Cassie awoke in a surprisingly good mood. Devon’s arm was draped over her, his hard face innocent and sweet while he slept. She dropped a gentle kiss on his brow, scooting slowly out of bed so as not to wake him. Padding toward the bathroom, she pulled her bandages gently off, glad to find that the wounds were healing well.

She took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a Red Sox t-shirt, opting for comfy rather than stylish. It was Sunday after all. Her grandmother would already be making pancakes and sausages for them, and an egg white omelet for Melissa. Cassie was pulling out more bandages and antiseptic when a soft knock sounded on the door.

She pulled it open, smiling at the sight of Devon’s tussled hair, and sleepy half smile. His green eyes perused her, an eyebrow quirked slightly. “Adorable,” he muttered, his voice husky.

Cassie felt her cheeks flush as she ducked her head. Noting the supplies on the sink, he came toward her, pulling her shirt gently up. His forehead furrowed, his eyes darkened as he studied the deep scratches on her side. “Almost completely healed,” he mumbled, more to himself.

“Why do you sound so upset about that? Shouldn’t you be happy that they’re healing well?”

He glanced up at her, smiling brightly. “Of course I’m happy, it’s just surprising.”

She wasn’t fooled. His smile did not reach his eyes, nor did it lighten the worry that still marred his brow. “I told you that I heal fast.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Let me help you.”

Taking hold of the peroxide, he gently cleaned the gashes. His touch was so light that she hardly felt it. Smoothing the bandages into place, he stood slowly. “How are the ribs?”

Cassie shrugged slightly, gently touching the bruises that were already fading from her rib cage. The cracks were already healed, but the bone was still bruised, though not badly. “Much better,” she assured him.

He nodded; his eyes still dark as his hands wrapped around her waist. “I have to go, but I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Cassie swallowed heavily, hating to see him leave. “Be safe,” she whispered.

“Always,” he vowed, kissing her gently.

She watched as he slipped out the window, disappearing fluidly over the sill. Shaking her head, she hummed softly to herself as she made her way swiftly downstairs, practically skipping down the last set of steps. Despite the hideous events of the dance, waking in Devon’s arms had lifted her spirits considerably. Chris was still lying on the couch, his arm tossed over his eyes in an attempt to block out the sunlight filtering through the windows.

“Good morning,” she greeted brightly.

Lowering his arm, he stared skeptically at her. “Ugh,” he grunted, apparently not at all pleased with it.

Cassie laughed happily, turning toward the kitchen. “Get up lazy butt!” she called over her shoulder.

The ring of the doorbell stopped her before she reached the kitchen. She hurried to the door, surprised that Melissa and Luther would ring the bell, they usually just walked in. Shrugging, Cassie grasped hold of the handle as Chris bolted upright, leaping to his feet in a smooth, fluid motion as he cleared the back of the couch in one fluid motion.