Sweet Collateral

“Anna,” he groans against my lips.

He forces me to experience everything until I’m pulled under a tidal wave of feeling, drowning and yet breathing for the first time. Rafe swaddles me in his love, making an unbreakable vow with his body. His name falls from my lips like a prayer as strong muscles tighten beneath my fingers, a long growl working its way up his throat. It’s raw and primitive, my big bad wolf.

He stills, heavy breaths washing over my throat for long moments. When he tries to move away from me, I pull him closer. I’m not ready to let go of him yet. He kisses my forehead. “Are you okay?”

A soft smile pulls at my lips. I wish I could explain it to him, but I can’t. This sensation can’t truly be put into words. My fingers stroke over his lips. “You’re like coming home when I’ve never had one.”

His arms band around my back, tightening like a vice. “Good. I want to be your everything.” He has no idea how much he is.

He lifts me, placing me on the bed before he walks over to the bathroom. I hear the shower start. “You coming to join me?” he calls.

“Maybe later.” I need a minute to just…process everything.

“Okay.” The door closes, and he leaves me alone with my thoughts, but when I slowly lower the guard on my mind, expecting a barrage of feelings, there’s nothing—only a blissful acceptance, as though I finally know where I belong. The absence of turmoil is just that; absent. It’s strange. Peaceful.

Rafael is a balm to my battered soul, and for now, it’s quietly healing.

Bright morning sunlight streams through the open balcony doors. Dust particles catch the light, sparkling like little bits of glitter. I lift my hand, allowing my fingers to play through the light. A sigh slips past my lips when I look at the strange flat void where my little finger once was. I haven’t been present enough to process the simple fact that I’ve lost a finger. It almost looks as though it was supposed to be like that, except it’s not. Part of me is missing. Unable to look at it any longer, I go to the bathroom in search of a bandage or something, anything to cover it. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, the shadows beneath my eyes so dark they’re almost purple, but I no longer look like a walking dead girl, and there’s some relief in that. Tearing my gaze away, I rummage around in the bathroom drawers until I find a bandage. With trembling fingers, I try to wrap it around my maimed hand. I’m aware of Rafael’s presence long before his hand covers mine. Tears sting my eye as he takes the bandage from me. It’s just a finger. There are worse things that could happen. I don’t know why I’m so upset about it.

Rafael says nothing as he starts wrapping my hand.. “You didn’t have enough bandages already?” A small smile plays over his lips as he ties it off.

“I don’t want to see it.”

“It’s okay to be upset about it, avecita.”

“It’s just a finger,” I say, more to myself than him.

His thumb brushes the inside of my wrist. “No one wants to lose a body part.”

“She didn’t even blink.”

“Your sister must have her own reasons.”

“What possible reason can there be for that?”

He grips my jaw, swiping his thumb just below my ear. “You know what kind of a man Nicholai is…”

I step away from him. “Are you defending her?”

“No, but…she sacrificed herself for you. She sacrificed her baby.”

“What if that was always the plan? She is Nicholai’s ‘daughter.”

He shakes his head. “You didn’t see the way she looked at Nero.”

“She’s Elite. They’re trained to seduce, Rafe. Manipulate and kill.” He can’t be this easily fooled, surely? My sister has no loyalty to anyone but Nicholai. I’ve seen it firsthand.

“Then why kill for Nero in exchange for you?”

“Nicholai could have orchestrated the entire thing. You don’t know what he’s like.” I do. He’s sheer madness.

His eyes soften, and I see the pity in his eyes. I don’t want his pity though. I want him to feel the same anger I do. “And Nero? You think he was in on it? That I was?”

“I don’t know, but my sister is a traitor.”

He moves closer, backing me against the vanity unit. “Fine. You don’t trust Una right now. And you have reason not to trust Nero, but do you really doubt me?”

My eyes meet the endless dark depths of his. “Maybe I should.”

“But you don’t.”

“You’re the only person I trust. You’re all I have.” I sure as hell don’t have Una.

He slides a hand around my neck and presses his lips into my hair. “Give it time, avecita.” He walks out of the room.