Series: The Un Series by Izzy Sweet
Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Carefully and slowly, I slide myself downward. Ignoring how wonderful it feels to have his skin sliding against my skin.
It’s like tiny little sparks are dancing across my own naked flesh.
When I reach the point of his arm dropping off me, I gently wrap my fingers around his wrist and lower it down until it’s resting against him.
Feet finally touching the floor, I straighten and risk another look at his face.
Thankfully, he still sleeps the sleep of the dead.
Turning away before I can become fixated again, I take in the room around me. At first, it’s unfamiliar, but then bits and pieces of memory come back to me.
I know Raphael moved us here… for some reason.
And I know we drank from each other and made love everywhere. Against the walls, on the ceiling, the floor, and even the dresser.
No wonder he’s worn out.
Moving toward the dresser, I open a drawer and peer at the neatly folded clothes available. Grabbing a blue dress, I yank it over my head and push my arms through the sleeves.
The length of the dress slides all the way down my body, the bottom of the skirt stopping only a few inches above the floor.
“I knew you would like that dress, dear sister,” a voice sing-songs quietly outside the door. “The moment I saw it, I knew it would suit you. It matches your eyes.”
Out of instinct, I spin around and stare hard at the door. Knowing whoever is on the other side is the one who spoke.
Fear wants to take hold, but I fight it back. More afraid of waking Raphael.
“There’s no need to be afraid. Do you not recognize my voice, sister?”
“Ambrose?” I whisper hesitantly.
“Yes!” he exclaims in delight.
I frown. Out of all the vampires I’ve met in Raphael’s coven, he’s not the one I’d prefer lurking nearby. Though he was friendly when we first met and was even protective, his appearance is disturbing, to say the least.
Not to mention, Raphael said he’s broken and can sometimes be unpredictable.
“What are you doing outside my door?” I ask as nicely as possible.
“Protecting you, of course,” he sing-songs. “Would you like to dance? The others will be asleep until night falls.”
I bite my lip to hold back my excitement and say calmly, “Of course, I’d love to dance with you… brother. But I need to freshen up first. Is there a bathroom nearby?”
Ambrose laughs musically with joy, and it’s everything I can do to not feel guilty for deceiving him.
I’ll dance with him later, I silently vow. Dance as much as he wants.
“Yes, sister, there’s one connected to your room,” he sing-songs.
I look over the room again and spot the door I thought led to a closet. “Wonderful. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out soon.”
Taking one step toward the door, I find myself suddenly in front of it, my nose nearly pressing against it.
Ambrose laughs again, just full of delight. “You’ll get used to your new speed and strength soon. If brother Raphael permits, I’ll even help you.”
Tasting my own blood on my bottom lip, from where my fangs pierced it, I grab the handle of the door and pull it open. “I see. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, sister,” Ambrose responds cheerfully as my eyes scan over the bathroom.
It’s your typical modern bathroom. There’s a white porcelain toilet, a white sink attached to a cabinet, and a yellow curtain shielding what I assume is a tub and shower.
The curtain is made of fabric, though, and I can see light trying to pierce through it. Meaning there’s also a window.
“Be careful, sister,” Ambrose warns, suddenly sounding very serious. “The sunlight will not kill you, but it will hurt and weaken you.”
How on earth can he tell what I’m doing? Can he see me through the walls?
That thought creeping me out, I say, “Thank you for the warning, but I’d like some privacy now.”
“Of course…” Ambrose answers slowly. “But please be careful.”
I approach the sink first and twist both handles to turn on the faucet.
When Ambrose doesn’t say anything and I sense him moving a little away from the outside the door, I grab the shower curtain and rip it to the side.
“Sister, no!” Ambrose cries out.
He sounds so distraught, I wonder if I should be distraught, too.
But when the beams of sunlight streaming through the window touch me, I don’t feel any pain.
I only feel the greatest sense of joy.
Thrusting my arm out, I stare down at the streams of gold touching my pale skin in wonder.
“Sister, stop! Please!” Ambrose begs. “Stop before you hurt yourself!”
Shaking my head, his voice once again breaking my trance, I step into the tub and shove the window open. The window is rather small, seated in the wall high enough to give some privacy, but I’m pretty sure I can fit through it.