Killing Your Sweet Breath - Chapter 48

Chapter 24.2

The two raised their glasses in a toast, savoring the wine provided by the temple.

Here, they were safe from the emperor’s spies and any unwanted guests lurking in the shadows of the night. For once, they could relax and enjoy themselves for a change.

By the time they’d finished the bottle of wine, alongside a modest plate of dried fruit, Winter felt more content than she had in ages.

As the last drops of wine fell into her glass, she remembered how their blood had dripped into the holy water during the ceremony. A smirk tugged at her lips.

One day, blood would fall from the emperor’s body just like that. From the sharp edge of her sword.

“It’s a shame we’re out of wine. I’d like to stop thinking for once.”

As if to emphasize his point, Van leaned back on the sofa. He looked vulnerable like that, disappointment softening the features of his face.

The gap in his robe exposed the broad expanse of his chest, the faint sheen of moisture from his bath still clinging to his skin and making him look all the more provocative.

Was it the wine making her feel this way?

Winter’s heart pounded so hard she had to avert her gaze.

Fiddling with her wine glass, she reached for the cheese on the table, grabbing a knife to cut herself a piece.

Not because she was hungry, no. Of course not.

She just suddenly felt so aware of him, and it made her so awkward that she needed to do something, anything, to distract herself.

The plan for their revenge had barely begun, yet her mind felt so uncharacteristically relaxed. She cursed herself for drinking that wine.

“Winter, what’s making you so nervous?”

Van Helgram’s voice cut through her thoughts. Her eyes snapped to his, finding a relaxed smile on his lips. It was at odds with the genuine concern in his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Winter turned her gaze away and fiddled with her nightgown.

If she stayed any longer, she wouldn’t be able to calm the frantic beating of her heart. Worse, she might reach out to him, which was a complete contradiction to the words she’d once told him: Don’t mistake yourself into believing you own me.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

Winter stood and made her way to the bed. She slid to the farthest edge, deliberately ensuring there would be enough space between them if Van Helgram decided to join her.

Sharing a bed was awkward enough. Dangerous even, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Sleeping in the bathroom wasn’t exactly an option.

She could only hope Van wouldn’t misunderstand.

Pulling the blanket over her head, she forced her eyes shut.

Her damn insomnia refused to let her rest. Still, she’d rather pretend to be asleep all night than face Van Helgram again.

Even with her back to him and her eyes firmly closed, she could hear everything. The soft clink of glass. The way he stretched out on the wide sofa.

Her mind, traitorous and vivid, conjured an image of him. His disappointed expression as he examined the empty wine bottle, the way his robe shifted to reveal more of his sculpted body when he leaned back.

The image strayed too far, and Winter shook her head violently beneath the blanket. The soft rustle of the blanket betrayed her movements.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Van Helgram’s voice pierced through the layers of fabric, amusement lacing his tone.

It was as if he could see right through her, and her ears burned with embarrassment.

Her heart, which had finally begun to settle, resumed its frantic pace, each beat deafening in the silent cocoon of her blanket.

“I’ll eventually fall asleep if I stay still. Don’t worry,” she replied, managing to force the words out of her mouth, her voice barely audible.

A low chuckle came in response.

Hearing him laugh made Winter curl up even tighter, retreating further into the corner of the bed. She willed herself to ignore him, but the pounding of her heart only grew louder, a cruel reminder of the things she truly wanted.

If Van Helgram realized how she felt, she’d die of mortification.

Here she was, barely at the start of her revenge, and she was already letting herself be carried away by some small, fleeting thrill of victory and letting her thoughts spiral into dangerous territory.

“Winter.”

He spoke again, his voice alarmingly close this time. Winter’s eyes flew open before she squeezed them shut again. She gripped the blanket tightly, forcing herself to remain still.

“It’s not like you’ll be able to sleep before morning anyway.”

His voice was low and thick with the remnants of wine, each word carrying a seductive weight.

The mattress dipped as Van Helgram climbed onto the bed, his every movement reverberating through it.

All he had done was lie down, yet she felt utterly trapped, completely at his mercy.

His mere presence was suffocating behind her, and when his hand brushed against the blanket, carefully pulling it down, she nearly stopped breathing.

The cool air grazed her face.

She could feel his gaze on her, lingering on the fiery red strands of her hair, watching as she curled up tightly, desperately trying not to give herself away.

Knowing him, he was probably smiling. Satisfied and amused by her reaction.

“You’ll wake up stiff if you sleep like that.”

His warm breath brushed against her ear as he whispered, each syllable sending a dreadful shiver down her spine.

I’m done for, Winter thought, keeping her eyes shut.