Killing Your Sweet Breath - Chapter 49

Chapter 25.1

Van Helgram hadn’t touched wine in ages, and it quickly spread fuzzy warmth through his body.

Or perhaps it wasn’t the wine’s doing at all.

After all, wasn’t this one of those rare, pleasant days? The kind where even a frozen heart might thaw, if only slightly.

The emperor had been deceived by the enigmatic ordeal known as “God’s Trial,” and the empress consort would soon return to the palace seething, clawing at her chest and spitting curses.

And Winter? Winter had finally begun to find her own reasons to live.

Van emptied his last glass and glanced at her.

She was tilting the wine bottle in her small hands, trying to shake out the last few drops. The sight made him laugh.

The fact that his amusement wasn’t born of innocent thoughts only made it more satisfying. She was probably watching the wine drip and imagining the emperor’s face. He couldn’t blame her. He was too.

“It’s a shame we’re out of wine. I simply wanted to relax and stop thinking for one night.”

Tomorrow, the two of them would depart for their honeymoon to Helgram.

Honeymoon. What a romantic term it was for the opening act of their revenge.

Starting tomorrow, their swords would finally be drawn against their true enemies: the emperor and the empress consort.

But tonight was their last chance to breathe.

Not that relaxation came easily. The wine was supposed to help, but with the bottle empty, that plan had run dry.

He couldn’t exactly march back to the temple and demand more, so he slumped back on the sofa with a disappointed sigh.

The night stretched on, and sleep refused to come.

The accommodations provided by the temple were spacious and comfortable, but there wasn’t much to do.

No letters from the Helgram territory. No urgent reports from Sheeran demanding his attention. Absolutely nothing.

And truthfully, the last thing Van wanted to do tonight was strategize their revenge plan with Winter.

Just for tonight, he wanted silence.

His eyes naturally drifted toward Winter again, curious what she was up to.

And then, he noticed something different in her movements. Something odd.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason, but she was fidgeting. Awkward. Almost like she was purposefully avoiding his gaze.

She toyed with her empty wine glass, then began cutting a piece of cheese she clearly had no intention of eating. The tips of her ears—did she even realize it?—were blushing bright red.

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

He asked her, but all he got in return was a cold-sounding, “Don’t worry about it.”

But her voice wavered, ever so slightly.

That was all Van needed to confirm what he’d already suspected. Winter was just as aware of him as he was of her. A slow smile curved his lips.

If Winter caught him smiling like that, she’d probably feel like all her secrets had been laid bare. Her ears would darken to an even deeper shade of red.

For now, though, he watched her silently, still smiling.

When she finally announced she was going to bed, he couldn’t help but smirk as she burrowed under the covers, tossing and turning like she couldn’t find peace.

It reminded him of a kitten he’d once snuck into the palace as a child.

It had white fur, and according to the gardener who had found it, the poor thing had been mewling in the bushes for days, so weak it could barely move. Its mother had abandoned it.

When he first carried it back, hidden in his arms, the kitten had hissed and used the last of its strength to fight him. But eventually, it quieted and nestled into his hold.

Thinking they’d become friends, he let it loose in his room, only for the kitten to curl up in a corner and stay there for days, refusing to move.

It clearly didn’t want to be forgotten, though. It would barely touch the food he left and stay huddled in that corner, letting out tiny, pitiful meows.

Just like Winter now.

‘That’s what she reminds me of. A kitten.’

Van called her name a few more times, trying to soothe her as he had with the skittish kitten. But Winter, like the kitten, only muttered soft stubborn protests for him to leave her alone.

Even as she shuffled further into the corner, he didn’t need confirmation that her attention was fixated entirely on him.

Van let his eyes drift close for a moment, feeling pleased.

The ring on Winter’s finger, the ancestral ring of the Helgram family, allowed him to hear the beating of her heart.

And right now, it was pounding harder than ever.

It was the same sound he’d heard on the night he’d comforted her, and the night she’d done the same for him.

Slowly, he moved toward her. The closer he got, the more she seemed to shrink into herself. He smiled.

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

Her response was visible rather than verbal. A slight tremble that gave her away entirely, and satisfaction filled him.

Even without seeing her face, he could feel her heart racing. Her breathing, on the other hand, was so faint it was as though she’d stopped altogether.

She was so tense that she didn’t even realize she was holding her breath.

Van reached for the blanket cocooning her, his movements unhurried. As he drew it back, he felt a strange anticipation, like unwrapping a gift.

Her red hair spilled out, a vivid contrast against the stark white of the room.

The way it cascaded over the bedding reminded him of a flower blooming in the snow. The sight alone made his pulse quicken, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart.

He gently untied her loosely bound hair, his fingers moving lightly as if he were petting a frightened kitten.

Goosebumps appeared on her pale neck as her hair tumbled free.

Winter might have once compared him to a dog, but that was nonsense.

Van Helgram was a wolf. A predator, even if he was alone.

And a wolf never misses an opportunity when standing before a small kitten.

“You’ll wake up stiff if you sleep like that,” he murmured softly in her ear.

Her body flinched, but Winter gave no reply.

A glimmer of light danced in Van Helgram’s eyes.