Blood and Breath

After three hours, everything Celeste wanted to be done was done, and it made a world of difference for the apartment. She sat by the kitchen counter, waiting for the rice to cook as she stared from the once cluttered floor to the smooth, mopped surface of hardwood. 

She wished she could have tidied everything else, but Celeste could understand where Avond was coming from, and she was just a guest looking for a way to repay the man who took her in.

Now, a hearty meal was ready on the table with everything she could find for him. It amounted to a plate of sliced, seasoned beef, a vegetable-filled egg roll, a plate of mixed seasoned boiled vegetables, and some rice still cooking. It should give him some energy and help him sleep. It was always nice to sleep with a full stomach, especially after a hard day.

She looked at the time and wondered if she should run a bath for Avond but decided it was too risky. He might be gone longer. Maybe he wasn't going to come back at all, Celeste thought, gathering herself before covering the steamy food with a mesh lid.

Celeste took her backpack and went to the spare bedroom she had found, although she was unsure whether Avond would be against it. It was a simple but well-furnished single bedroom that looked more like a hotel than anything else.

The bed was covered with a wide, thin sheet of plastic, but she could see a soft mattress draped with a plush blue duvet, completed by a scatter of pillows leaning against the upholstered headboard, and a cozy throw lay at the foot. Celeste desperately wanted to throw herself on it but decided against it.

The rest of the room was just as cozy, offering the same color theme and a sweet smell of wood from the floor. It was just a guest room, but it was more than she ever had. Everything was so beautiful, although dusty.

As Celeste made a mental note to clean the guest room, she opened the door to a small shower room, complete with a sink and a toilet. The tiles were light blue, and the curtain was darker. She guessed Avond must have liked the color blue, Celeste thought, smiling to herself.

She pulled open the drawer under the sink. Slowly, her smile faded, a tight knot forming in her chest as she closed it again.

Inside were a pair of women's underwear and a bra. Some cosmetic products were left neatly in a row: red lipstick, a case of powder, a brush, face soap, perfume, a nail clipper, and some condoms. Celeste let out a breath as she sat on the toilet seat, deeply concerned by her own raging emotions.

Why was she so upset over this? Of course, Avond would have female visitors. Just look at him. He was tall and lean, every muscle subtly defined beneath his skin. His hair was always pushed back and fell just enough to soften the sharp lines of his sharp features.

Sure, there were thin scars traced along his neck and jaw, but they didn't take away from his handsome face—they added to it.

His lips, Celeste thought, perfectly shaped, seemed to carry a silent promise she wished she could experience.

And when he moved, it was with a grace that hinted at restrained power, each motion stirring a desire she could barely contain.

Why did it have to be Tiel she needed to marry? Why not Avond? Celeste sighed, cursing herself for noticing all these things and how pathetic it was that she would throw herself at him if she could.

What a joke, she concluded as she climbed into the shower tub and turned the knob, letting the warm water run down her body.

Avond was the heir to the Brightwell Empire, a rumored mafia leader on the streets, a powerful man who could have any woman he wanted.

He was probably destined to marry someone who could help his family gain even more power and influence. Which made her think about why exactly Erickson wanted his son Tiel to marry into the Everhart family. What did he have to gain from her?

But then again, if Avond could choose, why would someone like him go for someone like her? Mute, short, and plump. Orion would have been the one to catch his eye if it had to be one of them. She wasn't just smart; she was well on her way to becoming a model—if she got accepted, of course.

Tired of torturing herself with thoughts of Avond in love with someone else, Celeste stepped out of the shower, then dressed herself in a comfortable T-shirt and cotton pants. Afterward, she cleaned up. The mundane task offered a brief distraction from her racing thoughts.

As she stepped out of the bedroom, Celeste paused when she heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Her heart skipped—Avond was back. Celeste felt a flutter in her chest. She darted towards the entrance but then forced her face into a neutral expression. She didn't want to come across as too eager.

"Avond?" Celeste heard her voice call out, but the sight before her erased whatever wonder she could have felt. Her composure slipped away.

Avond stood there, pale as a ghost, half his face and neck stained with what looked like fresh blood, still gushing slowly from an open wound. The strong scent of copper stained the sweet smell of wood in the apartment.

"Celeste…" Avond began. He sounded as if he wanted to say something, but the rest of his words slurred. He stumbled forward, collapsing to one knee. Celeste felt her heart catch in her throat. She didn't even realize she was running until her knees hit the ground in front of him, cushioning his fall. His head lay limp on her shoulder, his weight resting heavily on her. She was just in time.