Jennifer Armentrout: Opal

A small, sad smile appeared on his lips. “When the sun comes up, it’ll be beautiful. You’ll see.”

No doubt. Everything would be encased in white.

Dawson jumped up and suddenly appeared on the other side of the room. A second later I felt warmth tingle along my neck and my heart rate pick up. He looked away. “My brother is coming.”

No more than ten seconds later, Daemon was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Hair messy from sleep, flannel pajama bottoms rumpled. No shirt. Three feet plus of snow outside, and he was still half naked.

I almost rolled my eyes, but that would’ve required I take my eyes off his chest…and his stomach. He really needed to wear shirts more often.

Daemon’s gaze slipped from his brother to me and then back to his brother. “Are we having a slumber party? And I’m not invited?”

His brother drifted past him silently and disappeared into the hallway. A few seconds later, I heard the front door close.

“Okay.” Daemon sighed. “That’s been my life for the last couple of days.”

My heart ached for him. “I’m sorry.”

He sauntered over to the bed, his head cocked to the side. “Do I even want to know why my brother was in your bedroom?”

“He couldn’t sleep.” I watched him bend down and tug the covers. Without realizing it, I’d grabbed them again. Daemon pulled once more, and I easily let them go. “He said it was bothering you guys.”

Daemon slipped under the covers, easing onto his side and facing me. “He’s not bothering us.”

The bed was way too small with him in it. Seven months ago—heck, four months ago—I would’ve run laughing into the hills if someone said the hottest, moodiest boy in school would be in my bed. But a lot had changed. And seven months ago, I didn’t believe in aliens.

“I know,” I said, settling on my side, too. My gaze flickered over his broad cheekbones, full bottom lip, and those extraordinarily bright green eyes. Daemon was beautiful but prickly, like a Christmas cactus. It had taken a lot for us to get to this point, being in the same room with each other and not overcome by the urge to commit first-degree murder. Daemon had to prove his feelings for me were real and he did…finally. He hadn’t been the nicest person when we first met, and he had to really make up for that. Momma didn’t raise a pushover. “He said I remind him of Beth.”

Daemon’s brows slammed down. I rolled my eyes. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Honestly, as much as I love my brother, I’m not sure how I feel about him hanging out in your bedroom.” He reached out with a muscular arm and used his fingers to brush a few strands of hair off my cheek, tucking them behind my ear. I shivered, and he smiled. “I feel like I need to mark my territory.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, I love it when you get all bossy-pants. It’s sexy.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Daemon inched closer, pressing his thigh against mine. “I’m glad your mom is snowed in elsewhere.”

I arched a brow. “Why?”

One broad shoulder shrugged. “I doubt she’d be cool with this right now.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t.”

More shifting and our bodies were separated by a hairbreadth. The heat that always rolled off his body swamped mine. “Has your mom said anything about Will?”

Ice coated my insides. Back to reality—a scary, unpredictable reality where nothing was what it seemed. Namely Mr. Michaels. “Just what she said last week, that he was going out of town on some kind of conference and visiting family, which we both know is a lie.”

“He obviously planned ahead so no one would question his absence.”

To disappear was what he needed, because if the forced mutation worked on any level, he’d need some time off. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

Running the back of his knuckles down my cheek, he said, “He’d be crazy.”

Not really , I thought, closing my eyes. Daemon hadn’t wanted to heal Will but his hand had been forced. The healing hadn’t been on the level required to change a human at the cellular scale. And Will’s wound hadn’t been fatal, so either the mutation would stick or it would fade away. And if it faded, Will would be back. I would bet on it. Although he conspired against the DOD for his own gain, the fact he knew it had been Daemon who mutated me was valuable to the DOD, so they’d be forced to take him back. He was a problem—a huge one.

So we were waiting… Waiting for both shoes to drop at once.

I opened my eyes, finding Daemon hadn’t taken his off me. “About Dawson…”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, trailing the back of his knuckles down my throat, over the swell of my chest. My breath caught. “He won’t talk to me, and he barely talks to Dee. Most of the time, he’s locked up in his bedroom or out wandering in the woods. I follow him, and he knows.” Daemon’s hand found its way to my hip and stayed. “But he—”

“He needs time, right?” I kissed the tip of his nose and pulled back. “He’s been through a lot, Daemon.”

His fingers tightened. “I know. Anyway…” Daemon shifted so fast, I didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d rolled me onto my back and hovered above me, hands braced on either side of my face. “I’ve been remiss in my duties.”

And just like that, everything that was going on, all our worries, fears, and unanswered questions, simply faded into nothing. Daemon had that kind of effect. I stared up at him, finding it hard to breathe. I wasn’t 100 percent on what his “duties” were, but I had a very vivid imagination.

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He pressed his lips against my right temple and then my left. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you.”

My heart leaped into my throat. “I know you’ve been occupied.”

“Do you?” His lips drifted over the arch of my brow. When I nodded, he shifted, supporting most of his weight on one elbow. He caught my chin with his free hand, tipping my head back. His eyes searched mine. “How are you dealing?”

Using every ounce of self-control I had, I focused on what he was saying. “I’m dealing. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He looked doubtful. “Your voice…”

I winced and uselessly cleared my throat again. “It’s getting much better.”

His eyes darkened as he ran his thumb along my jaw. “Not enough, but it’s growing on me.”

I smiled. “It is?”

Daemon nodded and brought his lips to mine. The kiss was sweet and soft, and I felt it in every part of me. “It’s kind of sexy.” His mouth was on mine again, taking it deeper and longer. “The whole raspy thing, but I wish—”

“Don’t.” I placed my hands on his smooth cheeks. “I’m okay. And we have enough things to worry about without my vocal chords. In the big scheme of things, they’re nowhere near the top of the list.”

He arched a brow and wow, I did sound kind of uber-mature. I giggled at his expression, ruining my newly discovered maturity. “I have missed you,” I admitted.

“I know. You can’t live without me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Just admit it.”

“There you go. That ego of yours getting in the way,” I teased.

His lips found the underside of my jaw. “Of what?”

“The perfect package.”

He snorted. “Let me tell you, I have the perfect—”

“Don’t be gross.” I shivered, though, because when he kissed the hollow of my throat, there was nothing flawed about that.

I would never tell him this, but beside the… pricklier side of him that reared its ugly head from time to time, he was the closest thing to perfect I’d ever met.